


Muse

by AcanthaMD



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, British Comedy, M/M, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-10 05:59:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcanthaMD/pseuds/AcanthaMD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The person who had told him relationships were simple should taken out and shot as far as Sasuke was concerned. He'd never been so stressed in his life, it was like bringing order to chaos. NaruSasu, Lemon, Slice of life AU University</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I was asked to write this for a friend, I started writing it and found it initially very difficult to write. After a long hiatus from writing I'm determined to finish all of the things I have started! Including this one. The original plan was very different from the one I am now currently working with and I would like to think my style of writing has evolved and become 'better'! This is a predominantly a NaruSasu story, there is so far a fairly detailed sex scene in the 2nd chapter and a less graphic one in the 3rd. Hope you enjoy it and feedback is always appreciated.

**Muse**

**  
**

**Chapter one**

**  
**

 

Sasuke Uchiha was  **mad**  at himself. You could this just by the way he opened the fridge, the door swinging forcefully on its hinges and clattering into the wall.

It was stupid really, stupid stupid idea, and he was even stupider for saying yes. What had he been  _thinking_? Oh that’s right, he hadn’t because this guy had _smiled_ at him.

"He has a nice smile," Sasuke told himself as the cool air of the fridge rushed against his forehead and he leant down to pick out a bottle of mineral spring water.

The inadequacy of the excuse seemed to hang in the kitchen for a moment, before it flopped onto the floor completely and began to decay. Sasuke found himself scowling as he lifted the glass top of the bottle to his lips and let the liquid slip down the hot rough insides of his throat.

He'd had butterflies when the blond had bounced up to him with impossibly yellow hair, tanned skin and that fantastic smile. He hadn't been aware of the fact that he had said "Yes." until after Naruto had walked off giving Sasuke a cheery wave over his shoulder. Leaving Sasuke to be stared at by what he thought must have been the entire Strand Campus.

Which was bad.

It was very bad.

Disastrous, really.

He could remember the exact way Gaara had crossed his arms and looked at him with a certain amount of  _knowing_  on his face. Sasuke didn't have many people who knew him well or cared for him deeply. As a person he was distrusting, brusque and somewhat antisocial in behaviour, those he was closest to in the entire world boiled down to a grand total of three. The list consisted of his brother, his cousin, and Gaara.

Being close to Itachi wasn't something Sasuke could really help. They'd gone from admiring younger sibling and cool older brother to: I tolerate you, then: You really irritate me, then: You irritate the hell out of me I hate you and then back to: I tolerate you again.

Itachi was obnoxiously perfect; he always knew everything and how to deal with it. He was serious when he needed to be serious and funny when it pleased him. There was no situation he couldn't deal with an he knew it, confidence made strangely attractive and alluring, but he'd never in his life made a stab at a committed relationship.

Itachi had looked after Sasuke, argued with him, bickered, bitten, rolled on and hit him on a number of occasions when they'd had full on fights. But it was still Itachi that without fail had always been able to wiggle information out of his Sasuke.

If Itachi Uchiha had a hunch something was afoot and you weren't telling him what it was, he'd hold your head down the toilet until the blood rushing to your brain or the water flooding down your nostrils convinced you that  _anything_ wasbetter than this. The would only torture stop when you had obligingly spilled your guts and slinked off into the corner to sulk, then Itachi would order take away. He _always_ ordered take away.

Sasuke swallowed the last few droplets of liquid and set the bottle down on the black marble countertop and found that he was unconsciously gritting his teeth. He wandered aimlessly for a while about the large kitchen, not really hungry, feet curling against the under-floor heating beneath the york-stone paving slabs, looking for something to do while he waited for the…for that… **idiot**.

On several occasions he caught himself peering at his reflection in the shiny surface of the fridge, even on occasion running his fingers through his hair, although he didn't know why he bothered. His hair  _insisted_  on sticking up at the back like that, no matter what he did to it.

It was when he tried brushing the bangs away from his forehead to see whether or not he looked better with his hair away from his face that he realised he was acting like a schoolgirl with their first crush. He immediately left the kitchen.

On his edgy tour around the house Sasuke Uchiha dwelt on the fact that last month had been his birthday. He was 21, _just_. Not a happy thought, he had never enjoyed birthdays, his or anyone else’s come to that. It just reminded him of the fact that this was another year he had spent without his parents, another year to come that they would never see. As he stood in the glass conservatory, wincing as the sun came shining happily through the windows his mind flicked back to his course, and the reading the should really be doing now instead of later.

He was a third year university student, studying law at King’s College London. It was only the beginning of the September term and he was already bored of it. His first essay of the term had just been sent back to him with high marks and he expected the rest the year to follow the same pattern.

It had been the same for Itachi, except his brother had followed the family tradition and had gone to Oxford Christ Church and had graduated with a First Biochemistry with what people had described as being with disgusting ease.

Sasuke had always been a bit of a rebel, he’d purposely avoided Oxbridge even when half of his classmates had applied and his headmaster had called Itachi demanding to know why one of their scholars had refused to go to even an open day. Itachi had smiled, said Sasuke had his reasons and then taken his brother out for dinner the following evening. He had imagined he’d get a grilling from Itachi. Things like: don’t snub this opportunity just because you feel like being awkward, don’t be a fool and what’s wrong with you? All Itachi had done was order the most expensive wine on the menu, raise his glass to Sasuke and tell him that if their father had still been alive, then he probably would have been proud of both of them.

Sasuke hadn’t been sure whether or not this was true, after all their father had been strict to the extreme, and it had always been hard to determine whether you had done something right or wrong from the domineering quirk of their father's eyebrow without going to their mother about it first. But that was long gone now, now it was just the two of them, in this together. And that would have been alright, maybe even allowed Sasuke to open up a little, had it not been for the fact that Itachi was very nearly always out, he was always  _doing_  something, some prior engagement that he couldn't break, or some commitment about work.

Itachi would disappear off with the words "We'll talk about it later."

Only when later came he was usually so exhausted the only thing he could manage to do would be to collapse into bed with all of his clothes still on. Sasuke would then habitually remove his shoes whilst he was sleeping. This was more out of practicality than common courtesy. As Itachi had once had something over the bottom of his shoes which had gotten all over the sheets, and as Sasuke had insisted contaminated the washing machine and had badgered Itachi into buying both new sheets  _and_  a new washing machine. Itachi thought Sasuke was slightly neurotic, Sasuke didn't tell him that it was because the washing machine had eaten his favourite pair of socks and he was bitter about it.

Sasuke had sat at dinner, feeling confused as to why his brother wasn’t sharply reprimanding him about applying to Oxbridge, wanting to open up, wanting to never speak again and above all feeling utterly confused. He disliked talking about his feelings, and as such had a tendency towards shutting people out.

It probably accounted for the reason he had less than a handful of friends not that he wasn't popular, with men and women. But there's a difference in being able to tell a person your deepest darkest secrets and being admired from afar. Sasuke had had quite enough of the admiring to last a life time, throughout secondary school he had found love notes in his locker, in his desk and Valentines Day was a habitual nightmare, climaxing one awful Thursday afternoon when between fifty to a hundred girls had appeared outside his house with homemade chocolates and confessions of undying love and then proceeded to try and annihilate each other.

It had ended with Itachi threatening to call the police, whilst Sasuke from the safe confines of the house had sarcastically pointed out that "Aniki, you  _are_  a policeman." to which Itachi had pulled out a gun from beneath his undershirt and proceeded to shoot three times into the air. Which wasn't strictly allowed, but no one was going to argue with him (being the old Chief inspector's son) in that mood. The front garden had been trashed; their mother's petunias having been trodden on and the lawn had appeared as if a combine harvester had gotten lost all over it, on its way to lunch.

Itachi had carried on for a week about lawsuits, money in reparations and  _women_  in general, before he realised Sasuke refused to say anything on the subject, quickly dropped it and fixed the front garden himself.

That had been the last Valentine's Day Sasuke had ever spent at home.

Sasuke's problem was probably more along the lines of not being able to express himself, he was bad with words, and communicating his feelings in a house where his father believed in keeping a stiff upper lips had stunted his skills of communication even further. He'd developed a temper; a somewhat unconscious arrogant expression and a magnificent way of raising his eyebrows that would make the person on the receiving end feel three inches tall.

To call him self-important would have been a mistake; he was neither driven nor obsessed with absolute perfection. He'd lost his drive a while back, along with his parents. He was however filled with the confident notion of the fact that he was in fact  _better_  at certain-most things then the average person was.

It didn't make him perfect (he'd leave that to Itachi) but it made him superior to most. True excellence in another person was always to be recognised and admired from a distance and a few of his peers impressed him, but never to the point of actually starting up a conversation or, heaven forbid, smiling at them. So he carried on in the way that he was, formal, almost cuttingly polite, the air of a public schooled upper-middle class University student from an influential background. He had nails that were perfectly manicured and hair that was jet black and dark eyes, which were an ashen shade of grey.

In a forgiving mood Itachi might have described his little brother as handsome. Sakura on a normal day would call him beautiful, and Gaara would have told you he was ‘passable’. Sasuke’s features gave the impression of someone who was lonely and melancholy, as attractive as an icicle. He gave an impression of distance and a cold wisdom that was intriguing. It might have been that which made him so attractive to other people, the idea of saving himself from well himself.

But as far as Sasuke was concerned he didn't need saving. He was happy getting good grades, impressing his Professors, doing adequately as well as Itachi had done at his age; he sometimes played tennis when Itachi challenged him to a match, and he’d been a champion fencer at school. He didn't sing, he didn't paint, he didn't draw, he didn't write, he didn't dance; he didn't like bossing other people about, and he didn't laugh. No.

He was quite content with becoming a lawyer building up a successful career and then marrying some quiet dispassionate strong woman who wouldn't object to raising children and he would never have to think about anything ever again.

That was  **'The Plan'**  anyway, or at least it had been until two minutes past three this afternoon when something dreadful had happened. It had been so outrageous, so unexpected, so unlike him he had to take a step back and wonder if this was really him at all.

He had a  _crush_. Uchiha's  _don't_  get crushes. Neither are they moved passionately, they marry for background and fortunes purposes only, thinking with your head at all times. Matters of the heart were dangerous, unpredictable and foolish; to be ultimately avoided at all costs.

Sasuke had never had a crush before, or even a fleeting fancy romantically for another person within his whole life, so why out of the blue on that particular Friday afternoon he should be struck so thunderously and start reacting, and thinking in all these different ways was beyond him.

He kept comparing the turquoise clay vase that stood on the antique Chinese cabinet to the blue of Naruto's eyes, and the milky cappuccino he'd made earlier to the healthy colour of Naruto's skin.

In a fit of rationality Sasuke had poured the cappuccino down the drain when he had caught himself sighing over it, and had put the vase inside the cabinet rather than look at it and feel his heart constrict within his chest one more time.

Part of him wanted to claim that it was an awful, terrible mistake, that he was sick, tired even. He'd only met him that afternoon and albeit it hadn't been about wanting to meet  _him_  anyway. Naruto had been looking right through him at something else and Sasuke had gone and given in anyway despite the fact that his brain had told him to kick this guy in the balls and then walk away for simply having the audacity to come up to him out of the blue just  _like that_ and ask him for his help.

But he couldn't…hadn't been able to and didn't want to say no. So he'd said, "Yes." Quietly and almost wonderingly whilst he had watched the fox-like seductive smile had become even wider, whilst Gaara looked incredulously on at him.

Oh, it was a crush all right and Sasuke had no idea what to do about it.

He couldn't threaten it, he couldn't blackmail it, and it was damned near impossible to ignore as well. On his way home on the tube his eyes had kept flickering to each passing blond head that had passed in and out of the carriage, an odd uncomfortable hopeful feeling followed by an unpleasant squelch as he realised that it  _wasn't_  Naruto, and  _what_  he was doing?

Itachi might have laughed but Sasuke didn't think it was very funny; he'd gone home, thrown his lecture notes and his audio recorder all over the study, then gone out into the garden and scared off the neighbour's cat by throwing both his shoes at the fat thing. He’d then gone and locked himself in his room in something of a seething temper. That hadn’t been a smart move either in fact it had given Sasuke ample to time to reanalyse all he could remember of Naruto's face. Like how long his lashes were, or the dimple in his left cheek when he smiled, or the way one eye seemed to close more than the other when he spoke sometimes or the soft burgundy curves of his wide mouth and the…

Sasuke might have considered drowning himself in his sink at that particular moment had not Gaara called him on his mobile, which was unfortunately on his person at the time of said ‘reminiscence’. Sasuke was just glad his curtains had been drawn so no body could see exactly what it was he had been doing.

" ** _What?_** " he had snapped down the phone, sure of who it was before he had even picked up it was too early for Itachi to ring and Sakura would have used his home line.

There was a pause down the other end of the line and a slight crumpling of static. "You sound breathy," was Gaara's to the point and somewhat analytical remark that made Sasuke flush with self awareness and peer once again around his room for hidden surveillance cameras. "Would you like me to call back later? You sound like you're in the middle of some 'alone' time."

Sasuke told Gaara in less than a sentence where he could shove it and screw off to and felt somewhat placated when he heard his friend chuckle. Gaara had two older siblings; so of course he was immune to _any_ form of verbal insults.

"I was just ringing to check you were okay."

"Why wouldn't I be  _okay_?" Sasuke snapped at him, he put the phone on loudspeaker and began to rifle through his closet rather than hold that accusatory tone of voice next to his ear.

Although he knew Gaara knew already. How could he not? Static again and the slight burble of laughter and people talking in the background, "Just thought maybe…" Gaara replied somewhat enigmatically.

There was a rise of background laughter down the phone line and Sasuke caught himself thinking petulantly that Gaara was having fun without him. And then assured himself quickly that he didn't actually care.

"Where are you anyway?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"Kankuro dragged me here," was the despondent reply in Gaara's thick hoarse voice, "his band's playing something for an evening gig and apparently I'm supposed to be here. Not that I was ever  _told_." He finished irritably, and Sasuke knew him to be looking over his shoulder with his dangerous eyes the same colour as slaked lime, mouth curled down.

Sasuke felt slightly better.

They talked for a little while, which calmed Sasuke down for the most part, that was until Gaara managed to slip into the conversation that Kankuro was good friend's with Kiba Inuzuka. Who was, _incidentally_  (Sasuke didn't think so) one of Naruto's flatmates and had so far been able to establish that Naruto was in fact single, bisexual, obsessed with food and was as noisy as general gossip made him out to be.

Before Sasuke slammed the phone down on Gaara he made sure to tell him that he would strangle him the next time he saw him, and left the room with the sound of his own embarrassment ringing in his ears, leaving behind his dignity.

As the afternoon stretched on into the early evening, it only got worse. The more Sasuke had tried to reason with himself, the worse the hysteria had become, he'd started checking the clock every five minutes. Then he drank too much water to keep himself hydrated because he was stressed, this then made him to go to the bathroom in periodical sprees every fifteen minutes, and he concluded that he was probably wearing a hole in his bladder.

He’d then changed outfits on four separate occasions, one was too formal, one was too casual, one was too old, and one was too new. He'd combed his hair, put gel in it, then washed it, partially blow dried it and then told himself he didn't care and had allowed it to dry naturally which was a mistake because it was doing that defying gravity thing at the back again.

He'd finally given up and thrown himself onto the living room sofa sending a flurry of books into the air when the front door bell rang and he fell awkwardly off the sofa (glad no one had seen that) and felt as if his stomach had been sucked directly out of his body.

He was still wearing his slacks and a white t-shirt when he padded out into the hallway, thinking how stupid this all was, and wondering how on earth he'd got himself mixed up in this mess.

Through the stained glass of the door he could make out the back of someone's head as they stared out at the front garden, hand raised above their eyes against the sun, and if he wasn't much mistaken the distinct sound of humming on the other side of the heavy oak.

Sasuke placed his fingers on the handle uncertainly, convinced that this would not lead to some life-altering event that he would probably end up regretting for the rest of his life.

The door swung open almost of its own accord, and Naruto stood there dressed in an old orange leather jacket over blue faded denim jeans and a t-shirt that had the words  **'Dead or Alive'**  imprinted in dark bold letters.

His hair was still as impossibly bright as it had been that afternoon but Sasuke had forgotten just how blue his eyes were, and how catching that smile was. In fact he was almost smiling himself.

"Naruto Uzumaki!" Said Naruto, sticking out his hand and tilting his head to the side so his hair that went all ways but down. Sasuke Uchiha's heart skipped a beat and then seemed to stop altogether. This was worse than trouble he thought, this was down right  _dangerous_.

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasuke to his great confusion, finds out that his normal routine for dealing with 'distracting problems' doesn't seem to be working.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex scene, lemon, slash, sex, etc...

After ten minutes of forced conversation, in which Naruto had talked about everything from the weather to the upholstery, Sasuke realised he hadn’t heard any of it because he’d been looking at Naruto’s gently toned shoulders, his hands, his neck, his mouth and his choppy unruly hair.   
  
Sasuke had stood up from the kitchen counter abruptly and walked across the expanse of the marble floor and said in a demanding and forceful tone: “You’re bi-sexual aren’t you?”   
  
And then, without waiting for a more coherent reply than a slightly non-plussed “Uh?” From the blond, he put one hand on the back of Naruto’s chair, one hand on the counter top and kissed him.  
  
Naruto had started, eyes wide open, Sasuke’s mouth coy and pressing against his own, very slightly moist, very slightly parted, but very very wanting.  
  
They broke apart, Sasuke’s dark eyes probing his face, with what usually would have been a warm or vulnerable look, perhaps holding his breath whilst he evaluated the likelihood of his rejection.   
  
Except Sasuke Uchiha didn’t look like that, instead he looked confident, sexy, inwardly assured that Naruto would take him up on his offer of quick sex and an instant fix to his  _‘temporary infatuation’_.   
  
Naruto didn’t doubt for a minute that Sasuke Uchiha had ever received a refusal in his life; he was just too damned good looking. He looked good, he smelt good, he had a deep pleasurably gravely voice, he had long dark eye lashes that framed silvery grey eyes, his body was tall and lean like that of an athletes - an Olympic runner for example, or the toned elegance of a tennis player.  
  
He moved rhythmically as well, Naruto had noticed in the brief ten minutes they’d been—or he’d been talking in. All the time in which Sasuke had stared at him intently, fingers tapping a steady and what must have been subconscious rhythm onto the counter top.   
  
So Naruto did what was expected of him, he got up from his chair, feet firmly planted on the ground, slid his hand round the back of Sasuke’s head and pulled him in closer and deeper for another kiss. There was tongue and teeth in this one, Sasuke probing and wanting to know what Naruto felt like, what Naruto tasted like, dancing against Naruto’s tongue, fingers brushing lightly up Naruto’s arms.   
  
They broke apart panting slightly, a pale flush was spreading steadily across Sasuke’s cheeks and Naruto caught himself thinking how pretty Sasuke looked, light falling across his cheeks, casting blue black shadows from his hair onto his pale skin.   
  
It was mad, they’d all heard of Sasuke Uchiha, Sasuke with the perfect grades, Sasuke with the perfect upbringing, the perfect brother, the perfect looks. That icy almost cuttingly polite demeanour, and yet here they were, standing in a wide, expensive looking kitchen and Sasuke was quite honestly—dear god he hoped he hadn’t got this wrong, asking him to fuck him.   
  
For seconds they stood there inhaling, sizing each other up, Sasuke drinking Naruto in with his eyes, and Naruto just breathing, wondering if this was all real.  
  
Then Sasuke said “Upstairs.” In a slight husky voice, and walked out the kitchen door into the hallway. Naruto almost tripped over his feet as he hastened to move after him.   
  
In truth Naruto was (something of) a flirt. He was charming by nature, and he knew how to flatter people into getting what he wanted. He was painfully honest, and said (much to his own distress and delight as well as of that of others) the first thing that came into his head upon thinking it. He was often crude with his language; he enjoyed sports (competitive sports) and was leader of backs on the 2nd stream university Ruby team the captain being one his best friend’s from school, none other then the infamous Kiba Inuzuka.

  
Naruto as a rule loved laughing, meeting new people and the exploration of new relationships. He had a bad habit of making ardent and passionate love to his fixation of the moment; becoming temporarily obsessed with them until they returned his affection, after which he would slowly lose interest.

 

In short he enjoyed the chase - the trials and tribulations of courting, making someone fall in love with him was an art he had perfected and honed into a deadly skill.  Not that Naruto  _wanted_  to make love to the whole world; it was just something that seemed to happen. He formed and kept friendships easily and found people were strangely attracted to him. _Too_  attracted to him.   
  
So when Sasuke turned round in the doorway of his bedroom, or some guest room, or where ever it was in this giant house, Naruto took notice of the position of the bed in the centre of the room and then ignored everything in the world except Sasuke.   
  
At was at this point that Sasuke began to wonder if this had been such a good idea after all. This was silly. What was he thinking? Itachi would be home soon. He had work to do. He should really make an excuse and show Naruto out…. except it was a little hard to think with Naruto moving towards him with such an intent look in his blue eyes.

 

He fell against the door with his hands pressed against the wood, heart jumping like it was going to fly out his throat when Naruto stood very close, nose touching the base of Sasuke’s jaw.  “So are we doing this?” Naruto asked as Sasuke took in a shuddering breath and hoped he wouldn’t fly backwards through the doorframe and onto the floor.

 

Why was he feeling so God Damned nervous?

Naruto was using his tongue and licking at the soft tender spot between the bottom of his jaw and his trachea. The words vibrated there, low and deep, sending a tingling sensation all over Sasuke’s body, he let out an unsteady breath but tried to keep his voice as calm and as uninterested as possible, he didn’t want Naruto to know how jumpy he suddenly felt. As if he was about to take a plunge from the high dive into a bottomless pool. Or as if he was about to scale mount Everest with only a sock and a teaspoon. 

  
As if this was some life altering moment.   
  
He bit the inside of his cheek, “I suppose.”  
  
Naruto looked at him and laughed, that raw blue twinkle in his eye as if knew something Sasuke didn’t, voice grating over Sasuke’s body like raw pebbles and grit.  
  
“You suppose my ass,” Naruto reciprocated with, and Sasuke found himself pinned to the wall, arms either side of his head looking back at the blond haired youth with anger and desire mixed together so he didn’t know which was which.  
  
“You want me to do this don’t you?” He was teasing, his mouth against Sasuke’s neck, that place - that secret place which drove Sasuke crazy, buzzing warm and tingling, filling his head with incoherent words and dilapidated sentences.   
  
“Don’t you want this, Sasuke?”  
  
Sasuke bit his lip, not wanting to say anything, too proud and stubborn even now to open his mouth and admit he wanted Naruto to screw him to within an inch of his life. He thought it was unfair when Naruto edged a leg and hip between his legs, Sasuke’s bare feet sliding to the sides. The soles of his feet dragging across the floor, and the soft insides of his legs not burning so much as they ached, ached and yearned and hurt like the rest of his body did when all that Naruto was doing was just…just…  
  
The back of his calves ached, his upper thighs, the inside of his thighs, not just his groin but his whole ass, like he was slowly burning, the ashes and flames licking up his body from the place between his legs to the place where Naruto’s teeth and lips and tongue were working against his neck. Hard cold delirium as it rose and fell inside his chest, inside a bubble of erotic sensation he heard himself moan, and Naruto laugh again.  
  
He wanted to turn his head, to bite back, to show Naruto that he was in control but he couldn’t, sneaky thoughts in his head to lean in further, to grind, to fall against Naruto and give in.  
  
“Sasuke?”   
  
It was a perilous, husky, haunting note as Naruto slid one hand up Sasuke’s thigh, one hand so close to touching but not, rubbing the skin in circles above his hip, fingers trailing down, sliding down his legs again and Sasuke thought his legs might buckle and give way beneath him.  
  
The heat between them was incredible; Sasuke could almost feel his blood vessels dilating, sending blood skittering throughout his entire body. He turned his face to meet Naruto’s lips, wanting physical contact as desire and trepidation ebbed through him like a mountain river.   
  
 _“Yes, yes!”_  Almost unaware of himself as he surged forwards trying to claim Naruto’s lips with his own, wanting to plunder and be ravaged, anything to stop the teasing and toying, to be rough and fast, feeling he would snap if something didn’t happen soon.  
  
Naruto pulled his head back, laughing, hands moving to the waist line of Sasuke’s jeans, thumb hooking under the belt and jerking Sasuke by his waist closer to him, still avoiding kissing Sasuke’s lips, playing and toying as Sasuke moaned and bit the base of Naruto’s neck, then the bottom of his jaw.  
  
Then began slow, deliberate kissing that drove Sasuke mad. Once against his temple before moving across to the other side of his face, brushing against his lips as he greedily leant forwards for more, then back to the base of his jaw again, all the time Naruto slowly unhooking his belt and undoing the catch of his trousers.   
  
He hardly noticed Naruto pushing him backwards towards the bed, caught up in the way Naruto’s tongue just played with the tip of his own and the way Naruto suddenly angled his head to push in deeper when Sasuke wasn’t suspecting it.  
  
Unsuspecting and caught off guard, suddenly hot and demanding in a way which made the room spin, Sasuke, lifting his arms (finally) to place them about Naruto’s neck and shoulders, fingers digging in as Naruto used the distraction to slide one hand down the front of Sasuke’s trousers and stroke, touch, tease him almost, so Sasuke’s nails drove down hard into his shoulder blades as he actually tilted his head back in surprise and moaned.   
  
“You like that, right?” Naruto asked, speaking into Sasuke’s neck again. God damn this guy smelt good, the slight aroma of fresh sweat against a deeper huskier smell of soap and what must have been the fruity tang of a cologne; it pressed against the inside of his nose and throat, moving like liquid fire down his senses.   
  
Sasuke was holding onto Naruto’s neck now, forehead pressed against his chest and moaning as Naruto’s thumb swirled at the tip of his shaft, precum dribbling down the tips of his fingers and into his palm, wet, sticky and warm.  
He angled Sasuke’s head so he could kiss him again as he wrapped his fingers around Sasuke’s weeping cock, pumping slowly loving the small “Oh,” and “Shit!” and the way Sasuke bit his bottom lip when he deliberately went slower.   
It wasn’t long before Sasuke began to rock his hips in time with Naruto’s ministrations, trying to get him to go faster, and Naruto, his hand slipping to the small of Sasuke’s back and then down to his ass, withdrawing his hand from the front of Sasuke’s pants so he could grind their hips together.  
  
Sasuke forgot about everything then, everything and anything except Naruto, and how good it felt, how good everything felt, running and entwining his fingers in Naruto’s hair, lips against his own lips, sometimes open, sometimes closed, sometimes in between, letting Sasuke decide whether he wanted to lick, bite or kiss.   
  
Somehow Naruto got the shirt off Sasuke’s slender torso, somehow he had pushed Sasuke into the middle of the room, somehow he had pushed Sasuke back down and onto the bed, pausing for a second to rip off his own jacket and t-shirt whilst Sasuke watched, breathless and panting.   
  
He was impatient; he wanted it now, wanted Naruto, wanted it and everything so badly that he almost couldn’t bear it. All of his cool, detached manner was gone as Naruto climbed onto the bed, the springs squeaking and the mattress sagging as he climbed over Sasuke’s body, hands and arms either side of his head, while eyes raked over the lean pale limber figure before him hungrily.  
  
It made goosebumps erupt over Sasuke’s skin and he shivered as Naruto placed a kiss on his collarbone, working his way down to the centre of his chest, then to his stomach, his navel, swirling and dipping and to Sasuke’s surprise his whole body arched, muscles clenching and then releasing.   
  
Naruto looked up at him, eyes twinkling, “You’re impatient, aren’t you?” he said in a low husky voice.  
  
“Well you’re fucking slow,” Sasuke bit back, lying flat on his back, quick juddering breaths inflating his lungs in his hot, gummy body.  
  
“Heh,” he grinned, stupid beautiful gorgeous face, “but teasing you is only half the fun,  _Sasuke_.”  
  
It was the emphasis on his name, the way he’d run the two parts into each other so that they sounded like a moan, it was the way he said it quietly, harshly and smoothly at the same time. Sasuke had never heard his name like that before, something less then a short bark, almost sensual. Sasuke opened his mouth to respond, but Naruto moved over his chest, coming up to kiss Sasuke again on his flushed lips, ignoring the little whimpers, moans and pleas of frustration, liking, loving how Sasuke reacted to him just touching him, and hearing Sasuke yell as he bit his nipple and sucked hard.   
  
Sasuke instinctively thrust upwards, trying to bite down on the yell but failing abysmally, his whole body tingled and ached, sizzling with raw sensation and frustration that built and built like the melody of a song.  
  
“Fuck,” he kept saying over and over again as Naruto along each rib sending nerves spiralling in all directions, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”  
  
 _“M’getting there.”_  Naruto said, indistinctly against Sasuke’s lower abdomen, he could see every muscle in Sasuke’s body, all toned, all fit, all craving, all yearning. Perfect washboard stomach, with a slight trail of jet-black hair that disappeared beneath his unbuckled jeans and briefs.  
  
Sasuke Uchiha wore white Calvin Klein briefs, somehow Naruto wasn’t surprised, and he probably wore Armani shirts and Rolex Watches.   
  
Sasuke had thought…he didn’t know what he’d thought apart from the uncomfortable sensation of being unnaturally attracted to Naruto from the word go earlier that same day. He’d slept with guys before, in the backroom of a club, the back seat of a car, hotel rooms, one night stands always one-time things, there was no exception.   
  
Sasuke was good at those; he had no feeling towards his sexual partners, and having had his first sexual experience at the age of fourteen, he had found through experimentation that women just didn’t do it for him.   
  
Of course Sasuke was young enough, testosterone filled and had hormones raging to ‘get it up’ for just about anyone or anything, but it wasn’t quite the same as being aroused beyond all coherent thought by having another sexy, experienced guy touch him and take him beyond all coherent thought.  
  
With Naruto it was probably a case of getting him out of his system as soon as possible, which meant Naruto screwing him, which meant that afterwards these ‘feelings’ whatever feelings they were, no doubt some spawn of intense physical attraction, would die and ebb away.   
  
Sasuke felt the raking of hands over his body, his clothes being stripped, to leave his legs bare against the chill air of the room and he found himself sitting up and kneeling, unhooking Naruto’s jeans, kissing his torso and licking at the sweat that had formed against the blond’s collar bone, biting at Naruto’s hands and fingers as they moved across his cheeks to plunder his mouth.   
  
Naruto kicked off his trousers and, good grief, Sasuke found himself thinking, why did Naruto wear orange boxers? He thought about laughing but stifled it as Naruto stripped them off too, slowly, smoothly, and Sasuke swallowed all inclination to laugh.  
  
Naruto would have made a fortune as a stripper.   
  
All masculine hips with just the right amount of muscular definition in his legs and lower stomach, blond hair, or dark blond curls anyway, he was a natural blond after all then, despite the unnaturally bright colour of his hair, and as he pushed Sasuke down onto the mattress again, rough, warm hands against his shoulders. The alien feel of their erections sliding against each other, slippery with precum, warm hard pressure on his chest and Naruto moving his fingers into Sasuke’s mouth so he could suck on them, take them right back against his palate and suck, leaving them wet and sticky with saliva. Watching as Naruto trailed his fingers across Sasuke’s chest leaving a cold trail between his ribs, and then his stomach, sliding between his and Naruto’s pelvis and then  _in_.  
  
Sasuke arched, and gave out a yell because it hurt, but at the same time wanting to lean down more, his face was screwed up and he was panting as Naruto watched him with intense fascination.  
  
“God, you’re fucking beautiful.” He murmured, kissing Sasuke roughly against his lips, teeth biting into Sasuke’s lower lip, “Do you know how beautiful you are when you look like that?” and he pushed his fingers in deeper so Sasuke tossed his head from his to side and writhed beneath him, hot crushing flush sweeping up his body, flooding his pale skin like pink ink in water.   
  
“Naruto,” Moaned Sasuke, head thrown back, “just—I want—do it—just stop all this… **Ah!** ”  
  
“Where do you keep them?” Naruto asked, and Sasuke pointed to the top draw of a cabinet beside the bed.   
  
He was back within seconds, that intent look still on his face, blue eyes almost lazy with desire as he ripped the condom packet open and applied the lubricant.  
  
“  _‘Slip and Ride’_ , ” he said slowly, reading the label, “  _‘Cool blue flavour._ ’ ”   
  
“Don’t ask,” Sasuke told him as Naruto pushed one of Sasuke’s legs up and over his shoulder, he wanted to see Sasuke’s face as he did this, “just please don’t ask.”  
  
But Naruto had seemed to have forgotten as he positioned himself against Sasuke’s entrance and Sasuke told himself not to clench despite the fact that it felt like a broom handle was being slowly but surely shoved up his ass. But one look at Naruto’s face and he forgot all about it, gripping the sheets underneath him, he tilted his hips wanting to take Naruto in more, waiting for Naruto to open his eyes, to look at him, blue and muzzy and to move and make him—them, feel new heights and touch something close to heaven.  
  
“Naruto,” he said, “ _move_  or I’ll rip your god damn dick off.”  
  
Naruto licked his lips, smiling with his eyes still closed, fingers burning with hot delightful pressure into Sasuke’s hips in a way, which was sure to leave bruises.   
  
He did start moving then, short shallow thrusts that made Sasuke cry out for more, finding, moving, probing for that white hot bag of nerves inside of Sasuke that made light explode and sound lose all meaning. Working inside Sasuke’s body, wanting to go slower but unable to, telling Sasuke he was perfect, absolutely perfect, hot and tight and clenching and it was Sasuke who came first with a yell, sooner then he’d meant to and then Naruto biting Sasuke at the junction between the shoulder and the neck, and Sasuke thought he heard Naruto say “I love you,” as he came, except he didn’t…he couldn’t have…because they weren’t lovers and Naruto didn’t…he didn’t…Naruto probably meant someone else.  
  
That was the last thing Sasuke thought anyway, that and the painful twinge in his own chest as he felt himself sink limbs lose and limber, into the dark.  
  
  
* * *  
  
When Sasuke woke something unusual happened, well something for Sasuke that is. It was like some unspoken decree had been broken or some invisible line had been crossed.  
  
Naruto was still there.   
  
In truth he wasn’t lying next to him, or even touching Sasuke, the sound of movements across his bedroom had woken him up from his post-orgasmic state and he sat up hair messy, skin glowing and eyes wide to see Naruto wearing only his blue stone washed jeans across the other side of the room looking through his CD collection.   
  
At the sound of Sasuke sitting up he turned smiling, that sexy bedroom grin, Sasuke thought, slightly mischievous, slightly dreamy.   
  
His heart flipped inside his chest—no, wait. That wasn’t **supposed** to happen.  
  
“You listen to a lot of old music.” Was the first thing that rolled off Naruto’s tongue, Sasuke was looking at him almost perplexed, silver grey eyes wide, long lashes fringing his eyes like the wings of a dark bird.   
  
Sasuke looked thoroughly kissed, thoroughly touched, utterly fuckable, love bites on his lower neck and collar bone, the slight purpling reddish look of where Naruto’s incisors had bit down hard into that ivory skin and left red flushing marks. God Naruto’d like to…he’d like to do him again, right now, this second, up against the wall and hear him screaming his name again as he came, make him pass out from pleasure, the both of them. That bizarre iron impenetrable defence, the cold clipped polite tones he’d been greeted with at the door, scattering like melted snow. It was bizarre, like talking to another person.  
  
“Uh, yeah.” Was Sasuke’s reply as if he didn’t quite know what to say.   
  
Was he blushing?   
  
There really wasn’t much to blush about, he’d have wondered around the room naked but suspected that Sasuke wouldn’t like that.   
  
“You even have some old vinyl records here,” Naruto continued turning to look at the shelf behind him, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many before, the only name I recognise is Pink Floyd. Who’s-”  
  
“That’s Itachi’s,” Sasuke interrupted abruptly, scowling suddenly, “it’s only in here because he doesn’t want it cluttering up his room, so he clutters up mine instead.”  
Naruto blinked, sensing the sudden change in tone, the siblings obviously didn’t get along too well.  
“Who’s Jimmy Jones?” he asked, pointing to a row of patched obviously second hand CDs.

  
“An artist.” Sasuke told him bluntly, still scowling and slightly defensive, as he’d been caught doing something wrong or private, Naruto gave him a half lidded smile at this, as if he found the tone of Sasuke’s voice quite amusing.  
  
“I kind of guessed.” He said softly.  
  
The smile made Sasuke’s heart do that odd frog leap again inside his chest, he felt distinctly uncomfortable, embarrassed even.   
  
Why was Naruto still here? And for god sakes, why was he still feeling like this? As if one slight word from Naruto could bring thunderstorms or sunshine into his day? Why was it that every time Naruto looked at him, a passing glance this way or even a slight curve of those lips, it sent his mind skittering in a thousand different directions? Why was he all jumbled up and confused, and sitting here feeling like he was making an idiot out of himself?   
  
Usually afterwards he found himself quite able to slip into the easy cold demeanour he was so used to, not caring what the other person thought or felt of him, happy to slip out the back door and never to see them again and to pretend he’d never known them.   
  
Sex was brief and uncomplicated, no strings attached. That was the rule.  
  
There weren’t any strings here either, but he felt inevitably caught up in something anyway, because here he was sitting in bed still wanting Naruto to come over to the bed, run his fingers through his hair and kiss him!  
  
“Jazz artists,” Sasuke said mutely answering Naruto’s question and friendly demeanour, fingers wondering across the sheets.   
  
He’d have to change them before Itachi got back, and Itachi would ask questions with querulous eyebrows and _know_. How could he have been so stupid as to have asked somebody back to his house, let them fuck him and then…and then…  
  
“Can I eat something?” Naruto asked, breaking the heavy silence that had seemed to develop between them.  
  
“I’m starving, I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”  
  
“The kitchen’s…you know where the kitchen is.”  
  
“Do you have any Ramen?” the blond asked hopefully, hands in the back pocket of his jeans.  
  
“Any what?”  
  
There was a sigh. “Never mind then.”  
  
Sasuke scowled at him.   
  
“What if I get lost?” the blond inquired, hand on the door handle, easy, generous, sexy grin back again.  
  
“Just wander around until you find it.”  
  
Then the door closed, Sasuke put his forehead against his knee and swore quietly to himself.  
  
“What do I do, what do I do?” he muttered, mouth muffled against the fabric.   
  
He didn’t even know what to say to Naruto, they’d hardly talked.  
  
Take a shower, change the sheets, go downstairs, and sort it out. Don’t think of him as a person, think of him as a particularly stubborn paper that you have to write, you know you are more than capable of dealing with this.   
  
* * *  
  
Itachi stuck the key in the lock and jiggled it in the door because the stupid thing was stuck. He was home early; he didn’t know why he was home early but he just was.   
Standing out on the front porch as dusk crept up the street he felt distinctly irritable, people had been harassing him all day and he was grumpy. He wanted a drink and maybe watch a movie before he either fell asleep on the sofa or went out to that club Hidan was always going on about.   
  
Maybe he should ask Sasuke to come too, except Sasuke always looked uncomfortable whenever he was presented with Itachi’s friends - especially Kisame, but then again who wasn’t intimidated by Kisame?   
  
“Don’t ignore your brother Itachi,” his mother had told him when he was twelve and complaining about Sasuke following him everywhere like a shadow.   
“He’s the only brother you’ve got.”  
  
“Or will ever have, thank god.” Itachi muttered, throwing his weight against the door so it finally burst open, he chucked his keys in the blue and white china bowl on the hallway coffee table.  
  
He stopped to take off his shoes by the pew, looking around for Sasuke, frowning. His brother was probably in his room studying; he could be awfully nerdy like that sometimes.   
Itachi made his way to the kitchen, thinking about drinking, women, men, sex, food, his job and the fact that he needed to get some new clothes, and perhaps new shoes.  
But then he stopped dead.   
  
Someone was standing in front of the fridge that was definitely not his brother, neither was it Gaara or Sakura.   
  
Itachi’s mind stretched to think of any other friends or people that Sasuke generally tolerated in close proximity to himself, or any other people that Sasuke was comfortable enough to allow to wander about the house.  
  


None sprung to mind.   
  
This  _topless_ person with a defined figure, blue jeans and dishevelled blond hair was peering into his _personal_ food supplies as if he had all the right in the world to do it.   
  
No one went through Itachi’s stuff, not if they wanted to keep all their fingers, anyway.  
  
Burglars don’t break into people’s houses and then raid the fridge; they are usually too preoccupied raiding other things such as the family jewels. But the family jewels were in a safe beneath the carpet in the dining room, not the kitchen. So this was either a very stupid half naked burglar…or just a very hungry one--half naked.  
  
“You have ten seconds to tell me what you’re doing in  _my_  house, rifling through  _my_  fridge, before I kill you.” Itachi announced from the opposite side of the kitchen making the intruder jump. It was best to come at these things from the front. Itachi knew from experience.   
  
The person turned in a startled, exposing bright blue eyes and a toned chest. Itachi’s eyes swept over his figure appreciatively, and then flicked up looking serious, dark and deadly, all business with devilish intent.  
  
He was about to reach for his gun (he often did this, simply because he was good at acting and to call his bluff would be to reveal nerves of reinforced titanium) when the blond holding an opened can of diet coke said in a wondering voice “How is it that the two of you are so good looking?”  
  
Itachi felt his mouth twitch a little, ‘the two of you’ and ‘good looking’ meaning a number of various little things that told him all he needed to know about this blond youth.   
  
He took the can of coke away from the blond’s outstretched fingers, his eyes revealing nothing but his mouth twisting into a wry smile.   
  
“Keep talking.” He said silkily, “And I might just decided to let you live.”  
  
And waited for this person to obligingly spill his guts.

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Itachi and Sasuke have always admired each other, even it's usually from a distance. One of the things Sasuke has never quite understood about Itachi are his unexplained absences. But then again, Itachi has trouble explaining these to himself.

Muse Chapter 3

 

There was the sound of high heels and screeching wheels on the pavement outside and Itachi found himself turning to look out of the window onto the grisly gloom of the day outside. The slight misty rain tumbled down onto the tarmac road, a slight grey fog wavered over the ground, clinging to the sides of buildings like thick, moist cobwebs, that dripped down the sides of bricks in fat cold tears of rain.

The café was a small one, situated on a greasy street corner, where dirt filled the pavement cracks, just before the landscape morphed into upper class areas, just between the good properties and places where the houses sold two for a penny.

At night gang leaders, thugs, and prostitutes hung about in the shadow of buildings, the latter all in black stilettos and green stockings, lashes of thick mascara beneath black blocks of eyeliner, the cheap smell of perfume and rub of crimson paint across lips. Others with stubs of fingers in pockets, thumb and forefinger running over the edge of a knife, the rolling eyes of a drug addict and the plastic scuffle of syringes as they rolled down in piles towards the gutter. Itachi slowly rocked forwards in his chair. There was a thin film of something on top of his cup of grimy tasting coffee that could sometimes be seen in the hard yellow light of the ceiling lamp as it flickered erratically on and off, on and off.

He let the film condense against the side of his cup, unconscious of the look of disgust that rolled crossways over his lips as he did so, the sound of tinny Latin music ringing inside his head from the cheap mounted stereo on the wall.

Why had Shisui chosen this place? This grimy, greasy little café where the waitress's hair was so blonde it looked like she'd used a bucket of toilet bleach on it that morning instead of hair dye. A place where the toilets didn't flush and a constant crust of dead skin, grime and dirt coated the outer rim of the taps.

This place was simple really. This dingy little corner of the world was the same as all the other places which Shisui insisted they met up in after hours, the times in which Itachi would say to Sasuke 'I'll be back later' only to turn up at 4 am in the morning too tired to speak, all his energy pointed in the direction of his own bed and a few blissful hours of sleep. Sasuke never asked…Itachi didn't even know if he supposed and  _thank god_  he never told either. It was blessing in disguise perhaps that Sasuke hardly talked to Itachi anymore, because the less Itachi told him, the less Madara would be able to squeeze out of him at those unexpected but accursed family summons.

Madara was the reason Itachi was sitting in a squat little café on a rainy evening with nothing but a chipped cup of undrinkable coffee between his frozen fingers staring intently at the rain slithering down the window.

This was a place were no one would see them.

Warm fingers wrapped around his wrist, a meandering warmth sliding down to his palm and then making small circles.

"Hey, if I get promoted to Chief Superintendent, do you think I should get a Panama hat?"

The languid, bored expression on Itachi's face slipped suddenly, taking in the words and who had said them. His mouth twisted into half a smile, and half a grimace of confusion.

"A Panama hat?" he asked contemptuously, "don't be a moron Shisui, you'd look ridiculous."

A sharp bark of deep laughter, but the fingers still hadn't left Itachi's wrist, the rub of skin which moved down to each of his individual fingers until they were prised away from the side of the cup, linking with a hand rougher and darker than his own.

"You don't think it would make me look distinguished?" there was a flicker of laughter in Shisui's light grey eyes, a characteristic quirk of his mouth and a soft dimple in one cheek.

"It's just a hat Shisui," Itachi replied smoothly, his fingers neither holding back, nor pulling away, "it can't perform miracles."

Shisui laughed again a low deep sound, almost melodious, and Itachi caught himself thinking of a time five years ago, after his life had been turned over and onto his head, and that same laugh he'd heard from the top of the house echoing it's way down. The sort of laugh that made him think of closets, alleyways, cheap hotel rooms and the strong smell of alcohol mixed with sweat and semen.

A breath of the past and the present, but not the future.

"I missed you," Shisui said simply, he had that look on his face again, rough features inside of a handsome face crowned with high cheek bones and a strong chin.

Itachi wondered calmly if he actually meant it, he bit back the retort on his tongue that fought to come surging up his oesophagus.

"Like hell," he thought bitterly, "like hell."

"I thought maybe you'd like to-" Shisui began, that charming smile like warm chocolate, slow and sincere. But there was only so much that could be played on Itachi's fraying nerves. He'd left the office early on a miserable day and had got into the car with the full intention of picking Sasuke up from his lecture on his way home from work for perhaps a surprise trip to the theatre or movie (Itachi's choice of course) when he'd received a text on his mobile with the street address and the letters  _'I need to see you'_  glinting fresh and black on his Motorola monitor.

He'd stood for a moment, drizzle in his hair and edging down the nape of his neck, rolling thoughts over and over in his mind. Today was  _that day_ , he should see Sasuke and apologise about interrogating that blond man whom he had found standing semi-naked in his kitchen the other day. Not that he had been that harsh on the youth, considering. Besides once Itachi had convinced himself that the blond had no brains but more libido that could fill an eggcup, the conversation had more than happily drifted onto sports, racing cars and classic cars. Only Sasuke had taken the odd notion into his head that Itachi had actually been flirting with the young blond, and in a cloud of silent anger had been ignoring Itachi all week. Although Itachi could hardly understand as to why something like that would actually bother Sasuke; he scarcely seemed to care about anything anymore.

But here he was, ignoring his brother, ignoring his better sense, ignoring his dignity, his pride and even his judgement. Just for this man with the slow infectious smile and silver grey eyes like the beginning of a mercury lake.

"You want," he began slowly, "what you always want when we meet up like this." There was no bitterness in his voice, but a sharp clear resolution as he flicked the half full coffee mug with the tip of his forefinger.

He could feel Shisui giving him a long steady look, "Can I help it if I always feel the same way after meeting you?" he said simply, his fingers still laced over Itachi's his other fingers reaching forward.

A meandering trail across his lips dragging his lower lip down with the rough pad of his thumb, Itachi could taste salt and the tart tingle of metal against the tip of his tongue, for a moment he considered biting Shisui's thumb, but only found himself to be closing his eyes and allowing the trail of fire to move down and across his chin, spanning the length of his neck and bringing the back of his head in closer for a kiss.

He didn't resist, he didn't even  _try_.

The thought swimming leisurely about his head in a bobbing pool of other thoughts of how he ought to stop and turn away, but only felt his free hand, the one that Shisui wasn't touching gripping the side of the small table fiercely until his knuckles bled pure white.

Shisui pulled back first, eyes half closed and heavy, he was the initiator, the negotiator on rigged and uneven ground where the enemy lurks restless and uncaring in steep pitch shadows on either side.

"Itachi," he said again, slightly hoarse, slightly strained. They shouldn't be doing this, they shouldn't be here, if Madara ever  _knew_ …

Perhaps that's what attracted Itachi to Shisui so much, the fact that he was forbidden territory, a dark night in shining armour inside the enemy's fortress. Something that Madara would absolutely forbid, Itachi's way of rebelling against the family rules, his way of twisting the lines, some place to channel his anger into someone who knows…who understands…who is also part of that system. Like stars intertwined in fate, if they were either of them exposed, together they'd fall.

This time Itachi didn't even hesitate.

He went outside in the rain to hail down a taxi, he sat in the backseat with Shisui pressed up against him, next to him, fingers running through the dark strands of his hair, teeth biting at his lower lip as he closed his eyes and tilted his head backwards…back and back…delirious, high…full of anything and everything altogether and all at once.

The scene changed again, the rough scratch of keys in a cheap lock and the light wood like substance of a door being pushed forcefully backwards, shuddering as it slammed against the interior wall as Itachi stumbled through, clinging to Shisui's neck pressed right up against a wall and held there. He felt nibbling at the base of his collarbone and let out a low, sensual groan, wishing that Shisui would just hurry the fuck up.

It had been so long, three months almost, three months since Shisui's case took him to Greece, the Caribbean, the tip of South Africa, places far, far away and oceans apart.

They haven't had each other since then and suddenly they were both ravenous.

The foreplay was almost savage, rough fingers pulling at clothes, Itachi laughing, dark eyes almost black looking up into the face of his lover as he lay flat on his back feeling completely in control, arching, winding, twisting against Shisui's flat, taught chest.

Shisui…Shisui who was by no means his first, but the one who had opened his eyes when he was just barely eighteen years old.

Shisui who had told him a month after his parents had died when Itachi had been vulnerable and alone… _so alone_ …that he had loved him and always had. Shisui…his second cousin, five years his senior, Shisui who had whispered all those delicious, unrepeatable things into his ears in the backseat of his car at a late night movie drive in.

Shisui who had fucked Itachi slowly, bareback that first time, both of them almost fully clothed, Itachi who hadn't understood until then how much pleasure and pain had been the same thing. Hadn't understood how two people could so completely fit together, or what it was like to control someone from underneath.

He hadn't understood the craving that had fled pell-mell around his system. Hadn't understood the nervous tick that had bothered him until they'd gone round to the main house again and he'd seen Shisui standing in the foyer. He'd made some excuse, left Sasuke inside and gone out into the garden, it had been raining that day too and he'd walked all the way towards the Summer House before Shisui had caught him.

His light brown hair flecked with rain and water dripping from his lashes, lightening stippled the sky at odd intervals, illuminating everything black, white and grey, but nothing had seemed to matter…to compare even to the heat radiating between them.

Itachi didn't describe it as love; he  _couldn't_  describe it as love.

It was obsession he felt for Shisui, the sort of obsession that could get him out of bed at two in the morning and meet him down some obscure alleyway just so they could suck each other off. The sort of obsession where they stole kisses in the dark from each other, where blind eyes sought fumbling hands in a chase to strip each other of clothes and devour as much naked skin as possible.

Itachi couldn't hide what he was, his personality was too strong to conceal, the sort of selfish calculating that had resided inside of him all his life, torn out for the entire world to see after his parents death when he had seen the world go tumbling to his feet.

Itachi was controlling, he was arrogant, he self-assuming, he liked to belittle people and make them feel beneath him, but he also felt.

He didn't feel in the same way that Sasuke felt, his little brother who was always trying to stop himself from feeling too much less he should be hurt again. Itachi felt in a distant way, how people tried to hurt him, or tried to know him, sometimes he liked them and sometimes he didn't.

Relationships fluttering like red ribbon on a gentle breeze. He could see where each of them where going and to each where they wanted to lead, but no further. There was no desire, no craving to get closer.

With Shisui it was the same.

He had no doubt that Shisui loved him, in his way, and the thought made him as excited as it had done on that stormy rainy day when he was eighteen in the Summer House, damp and naked, straddling Shisui's naked hips and pushing himself onto Shisui's cock, taking him deep and full into himself and moving fast and hard.

Wishing that he could make it last longer, knowing he'd learn, hearing himself cry out first and then being flipped onto his back and pushed into again, rocking their hips, back and forth, back and forth, until there was a break down of rhythm and a collapse on top of his body, wet, hot, sticky substance sliding down the inside of his thighs and down the back of his calves.

Shisui had never become a fixed part of Itachi's world. He was always moving, flickering about, and asking for more or less, neither here nor there. Sometimes he'd turn up at the front door unexpected, that slow smile and light brown hair. He'd never ask for Itachi directly, but softly imply until Sasuke had left the room and gone out, leaving Itachi with a bottle and a half of empty wine and fingers dancing across his chest, sliding smoothly down the skin of his inner thighs.

It was the same now as it always had been. Shisui touching, tasting, trying, sliding and Itachi giving only as much as he wanted, everything by half measures, always a calculating smile and a slanted look.

Shisui left him on the bed then for a minute, half clothed and panting, fingers running through the mini-bar, "Vodka or Baileys?"

"You're going to get me drunk?"

"I want you to relax. You're thinking about too much again, I can see it in your eyes."

Itachi laughed at this, flipping over to lie on his stomach and hissing a little at the friction between himself and the bed.

"Champagne," Itachi Uchiha said lightly, "don't you always use Champagne?"

"Champagne is for the first and last time only." Shisui told him, the words hanging in strings that trailed across the floor.

Itachi's eyes narrowed at this. The line seemed practised, or at least the notion behind it did, and his mind sped to Greece, the Caribbean, South Africa, and faceless lovers, thousands of them, all without names but all with silent intentions.

"Paris," Shisui had told him when he was twenty-one, whispering against the soft spot of Itachi's neck as they lay beneath crisp linen bed sheets, "one day I'll take you to Paris and we can walk down the Champs-Élysées, or go to Montmartre and I'll show you the groaning steeples of Notre Dame. Maybe one day we can go all over the world together."

Itachi hadn't believed him then, he still didn't believe him now.

"Vodka," he said flippantly, "and don't bother with a glass."

Whether Shisui actually thought Itachi was holding back from him, or whether he wanted to forget something himself, Itachi didn't know. Anxious, keen and wanting all at the same time, he'd pulled Shisui back onto the bed with him, pulling his starched white shirt off his head and running his fingers through Shisui's short brown hair, kissing, biting and nipping. Palms against the soft brown curls on Shisui's chest and laughing when Shisui took a long draft of the alcohol and Itachi leant forwards to swirl his tongue across Shisui's mouth.

Shisui laughed more when he was tipsy, that was a commonly known fact, but there is nothing so consuming as a lover laughing against your navel as they kiss it, gentle tremors, the sweet smell of spirits and spinning ceiling fans merging into one and the same thing as Itachi lay on his back and let Shisui do what he'd been wanting to do for the past three months. One leg hooked over Shisui's broad shoulders, the other pulled tight against his slim waist, they made the same motions, Itachi's breathing laboured, it came up almost fractured, sweat across his brow, his chest, and a hot flush creeping up his body. Shisui moved into him, then out again, hot, warm, pulsing, twitching, rocking, yearning,  ** _FUCK_**! And Itachi cried out in the end, despite that fact that he didn't want to, and that he'd rather not. He cried out, yelled, very nearly screamed, noise smothered by the clumsy wet kiss against his lips as Shisui followed after, thumb and forefinger pulling, entwined in his hair.

They lay there for a while, getting their breath back, and Shisui leant across Itachi to pull out a cigarette from his coat pocket. It's at times like these when Itachi notices Shisui's build, broader, bulkier then his own.

Wider shoulders, broader, rougher face and those eyes, like a silver moon.

Shisui hadn't changed much; not really, he still looked like the young man Itachi became infatuated with when he was only eighteen years of old. There was that same playful boyish expression, same rugged public school boy good looks and momentarily Itachi felt a twinge somewhere in his chest where he supposed his heart might have been and he moved forward to kiss Shisui voluntarily, lightly, and playfully almost on the lips. Hot tongue sliding to Shisui's neck, nibbling, biting, sucking, tasting, worrying at the skin there, until the growl of appreciation from Shisui turned into a short but sharp intake of air.

"Don't do that," he said, almost fiercely, "it'll leave a mark."

Itachi blinked before the hard expression settled across his face again once more.

"Leave a mark for whom?" he asked acridly, sitting up cross-legged, dark eyes even darker in the shabby artificial lighting.

There's a short start and a long fall of silence, then hesitantly, almost tenderly, which is the last thing in the world that Itachi wanted, or could ever want, "I thought you knew."

It was a bold statement, not a question, and the full force of something Itachi had been steadily trying to ignore for these past coming weeks turned round to punch him full in the face.

"Madara arranged it Itachi. I've hardly ever met her, she's part of the Kunaicho. I'm told it's a great match and she's certainly very lovely, I have to meet her tomorrow afternoon for lunch with-"

Itachi cut across him, not caring for details. His legs felt numb, his hands felt numb, his body felt numb, numb and cold all over as if he was unable to feel a single thing.

"When are you getting married?"

"Next month."

There was a wry smile on Itachi's lips as he turned to look towards the door, wondering if he should put on his clothes and leave right now.

Somehow, he'd known this was coming.

"And you want to continue  _this_?" the last part was spoken with an inflection of revulsion and aggression, as though the syllables left a dirty taste on the inside of Itachi's mouth. Shisui heard all of it and none of it at the same time, cigarette between his lips as his grasped Itachi by both wrists and forced him back down onto the bed and under him.

"Don't say it like I'm the only one!" Shisui hissed down at him, as ash fell from the cigarette butt onto Itachi's cheek. Itachi found himself prying his wrist loose so he could take the cigarette out of Shisui's mouth and inhale the curling smoke down into his own lungs.

God, he missed nicotine.

"But you are the only one, Shisui." He said simply, holding the long white cylindrical object between finger and thumb, "Because you can't live without me."

And he reached up then, small, devilish, flirtatious smile on his face beneath long lashes, and extinguished the burning embers of the cigarette on Shisui's perfectly broad flat chest.

Shisui gasped then, and grit his teeth, it would leave a perfectly oval scar, and the pungent smell of ash and burnt skin went coiling into his nostrils.

He bent Itachi's hand back and throwing the cigarette to the floor, nose-to-nose, mouths inches away from each other as Shisui whispered and spoke lover's words, almost a mantra as Itachi rolled his head to the side and tried not to listen.

 _He_  was manipulative, and  _he_  was manipulated, pulled like a puppet on a string as Shisui let his hands trail across his body, feather light caresses, it was hard to resist and hard to ignore as Shisui insisted that Itachi needed him as much as Shisui needed Itachi.

Hard to ignore the way Shisui played with the shell of Itachi's ear, tongue glancing across the rim, teeth nibbling at the lobe.

Somewhere along their intricate dance Itachi let his fingers lace one by one with Shisui's, one by one succumbing, falling under again, moving to a rhythm that was not his own, surrendering and fighting at the same time. Trying to move the impossible and let the impossible move him.

Shisui… _Shisui_  was his past and his present…but he was not his future.

Those were the lines he had to keep himself from crossing.

He just had to remember to remind himself of it.

* * *

"Get out!" Sasuke yelled at Gaara with mock annoyance in his voice, throwing the television remote across the room and the pale skinned, black-eyed red head.

"Ah," said Gaara, his hand on the side of the door ready to bolt less Sasuke Uchiha should actually become annoyed, "just making sure you weren't suffering from a broken heart, that's all."

"I don't care what your excuse was, searching through my room for my 'Secret Diary',  _which doesn't even exist by the way, for future reference,_  is not, under any circumstances acceptable."

"No," was Gaara's smooth and somewhat humorous reply, "you're just mad because I found your secret stash of gay porno mags, I bet you've stashed your diary with your vibrator."

This really was the last straw for Sasuke; with a yell like a wounded bull he'd leapt from the couch and chased Gaara down the stairs, through the hallway and out of the house. Gaara had stood arms crossed on the front porch and said in his calm, deep throaty voice if Sasuke was coming to his brother's band's performance next week on Tuesday night, taken the Uchiha's disgruntled silence as a universal 'yes' and with a casual wave over his shoulder had walked off to the nearest tube station.

Sasuke had laughed, shaken his head and taken out the garbage, humming to himself distractedly and washing his hands under the kitchen sink. He'd tried hard not to think of the blond in the past few days, tried hard to think of it as a one time thing, tried not to think of Naruto kissing him, pushing him back down against the bed, tried not to remember the squeaking of the springs or the way Naruto smiled, or the way that Naruto inclined his head when he laughed.

"It would never work," he'd told Gaara stubbornly, looking into lime green irises and finding his own bullshit to be promptly spat back out at him again, "we're worlds part."

"Enlighten me." Gaara had bitten back astringently.

Sasuke's expression had wavered for a moment his eyes flicking to the screen as the movie played the ending credits.

"He likes chocolate, I like vanilla."

Gaara had turned round then and punched him.

* * *

Sasuke was still humming some long forgotten tune from his childhood when the phone rang off the hook, the high-pitched sound echoing down the corridor and into the kitchen.

As soon as Sasuke picked it up he regretted it.

Madara Uchiha was never kind to Sasuke when they saw each other face to face, but then again Madara was never kind to anyone stat, but there was a certain way in which Sasuke's eyes widened as he clutched at the receiver against his ear that showed a small trace of the panic he felt inside at the sound of Madara's dusky thick voice.

"Where is your brother?"

Sasuke didn't know, mistake number one.

"When will he be back?"

Sasuke didn't know this either and felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, as he knew it to be mistake number two.

There was an impregnated pause on the phone, the silence spiralled horribly, a head drop and a sickening crunch, "Give him a message for me." Madara said finally after Sasuke had stood there for a moment utterly still, too afraid even to breathe loudly less Madara should disapprove.

He fumbled for a pen and paper, his hands sweating, almost shaking with repressed nerves. He wanted to slam down the phone and retreat to his bedroom, close the door and hide under the bedcovers. The sort of emotion that made him want to barricade down the house and turn on all the lights, walk into his brother's room and…and…oh why wasn't Itachi here?

"Oh Sasuke," Madara said silkily just before the receiver was pulled away from the pale shell of Sasuke's ear, "it was your mother's birthday today wasn't it? Shame Itachi isn't there. But I suppose he's got better things to do, hasn't he?"

The sound of the unoccupied phone signal rang in his ear.

* * *

"Someone's at the door!" Shikamaru yelled at Kiba Inuzuka from the living room sofa from where he and Naruto were watching TV. The flat was a mess, half empty cola cans, beer cans, books, magazines, socks, underwear and t-shirts littered the floor as the two young students sat in the middle of the mess, fingers pressing feverishly onto the Playstation 3 handhelds between their fingers.

Kiba came stomping moodily out from the bathroom, hands on hips, metal piercings in his ear glinting.

"And neither of you can walk ten meters to the door?" he snapped down at both of them, picking up an empty pizza box and stuffing it in the bin.

"Nope." Was the universal reply, Naruto's tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as he concentrated hard on winning, almost going cross eyed in the attempt.

"Make Shikamaru take that cancer causing abomination out of his mouth this instant!" Kiba called over his shoulder heading towards the front door.

"Shika," Naruto said without looking away from the TV screen, "Kiba wants you to put out your cigarette."

"The nicotine doesn't want me to." Was their friend's indistinct reply.

When Kiba Inuzuka opened the door on a crisp Friday evening in the middle of September, he expected a pretty young girl that Naruto had recently courted to be sitting out on the doorstep looking forlorn and wanting some comfort. He expected Temari to be standing there, hand on hips, wild explosion of blonde hair and in a towering temper. He expected Lee, with tickets to some theatre production that no one had heard about. He expected TenTen with a handbag full of makeup, drinks in one hand and stories about Neji on her tongue. He would like, and expected Hinata with a mouth full of smiles and a body full of warmth, but today wasn't one of those days.

The person standing on the door step was tall, with dark hair and silvery grey eyes, he was wearing a long dark trench coat and a thin black scarf around his neck, the sultry light from the street lamps showed his skin to be pale and smooth like molten larva.

"Does Naruto live here?" the person asked in a voice that was both polite but unsure at the same time, almost withdrawing from Kiba into the depths of his scarf and coat.

"Yeah," was Kiba's immediate but intrigued response, "he does live here. Hang on…"

He cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted,  **"NARUTO YOU SHIT, GET YOUR BLOODY ARSE DOWN HERE NOW!"**

There was a triumphant yell and a groan from inside the flat, Kiba laughed, leaning on the doorpost as the clattering of feet could be heard against wooden floorboards.

The person stood uneasily for a moment, awkward, unsure, shoulders slumped, biting their lower lip. Kiba could smell his unease as he wrinkled his nose and felt Naruto press up behind him, grinning.

"Who wants to see me-" he began, and then stopped, Kiba felt fingers dig into his shoulder and looked from one to the other intrigued.

"Sasuke?" Naruto breathed out slowly, as if he couldn't believe…as if he'd never considered it possible.

Sasuke in Kiba's head meant Sasuke Uchiha, and if Naruto said anything in that breathy voice it meant…well, certain graphic details that Kiba didn't much want to think about in all honesty. But it was the look on Sasuke's face that caught him, the half horrified, embarrassed look of someone who has lost his or her nerve.

Sasuke took a step backwards and Kiba felt the fingers dig into his back deeper and harder this time.

"I'm sorry," Sasuke said, almost laughing and yet there was nothing that suggested laughter in his eyes.

"It was a stupid idea, I'm sorry for wasting your time." And then he turned round and ran down the street.

Seconds later, Naruto ran after him.

 


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Naruto catches up with Sasuke, and Sasuke blunders out a proposition.

**Muse**

**Chapter Four**

"Sasuke!" Naruto shouted, rounding the corner as he caught Sasuke by the bus stop. "Wait!"

Sasuke stopped; his face flushed with colour and he subconsciously ran his fingers through his hair.

"Oh…hi." he said in as close to casual tones as he could possibly manage. He gave Naruto this awkward nod and then became entirely engrossed by the bus stop map, as if he urgently needed directions to somewhere. Directions to sanity maybe? It was highly unlikely that Naruto could be thinking anything other than Sasuke was acting like a complete lunatic.

Who rings on peoples doors and then runs off?

There was no excuse, apart from alien mind control chips or lack of prescribed medication and neither of those routes sounded particularly appealing to Sasuke right now. He gave the map one last desperate look, saw no magical solution appear before him, sucked in a breath and turned to face Naruto.

"Hey," Naruto replied, to his credit no part of his expression gave away the fact that Sasuke was acting like someone who had recently escaped from an asylum. In fact he was bending over slightly with his hands braced on his knees puffing a little.

"You can't half sprint you know? What are you training for the Olympics?"

Obviously you didn't sprint fast enough to shake him off! The crazy little voice in his head piped up.

The voice that was also telling him it was a good idea to run straight into the road in order to be hit by oncoming traffic, rather than facing the humiliation of this conversation. How was red was his face? Sasuke could feel the heat in his cheeks radiating from his skin as if it were the part of a nuclear fusion reaction. He dug his hands so deeply inside his trench coat he thought they might rip through the lining completely.

"Uh… I um, sports sometimes."

Sasuke had  _no idea_  what he'd just said, but he decided to go with it.

What the hell was wrong with him? It was like he had lost control of his higher brain functions; this conversation was rapidly descending into hell. Maybe he should just end it now and fling himself into the path of the nearest oncoming Boris bicycle.

Again Naruto didn't falter at Sasuke's apparent mental breakdown, he smiled instead flashing those very white teeth and drawing attention to his perfect mouth.

"It's nice to see you again Sasuke."

That  _smile_  made it very hard to think, Sasuke thought. He felt almost panicked, his hands were sweaty, his heart rate had sky rocketed and his tongue felt uncomfortably numb in his mouth.

"Hi!" Sasuke began and then realized his mistake. "Oh, er no, we've already covered that part of the conversation."

He was babbling now and put one hand over his face in embarrassment. Just calm down he thought, just calm the fuck down. Make something up, anything up! Don't just stand there like an idiot!

He removed the hand from his mouth and tired again. "There was a gig. I mean; I'm going to a friends gig. But the gig's nearby and you live there. I mean you don't like right there… no! I mean you don't live there."  **Crap.**

"Um…" Naruto was frowning at him, looking somewhat perplexed. "Sorry, I don't really follow?"

Sasuke took a deep steadying breath squeezed his eyes shut and just  _asked_ : "I thought you might want to come."

It was a  _complete_  lie of course; pretending he had pre-planned this. He wasn't even sure how he'd gotten here in the first place. It had been something like wondering around in blind panic, a sickening gut clenching feeling you get when someone rips your life apart.

He'd felt like he was trying to fight down nightmarish monsters for the past few hours, swallowing down the memories he tried very hard to keep suppressed. It had been necessary to leave the house, as he'd felt trapped in it all alone. He had run almost blindly from the sound of Madara's voice and the visions it had conjured up. It forcibly reminded him of dark rooms, the sound of a piano playing and then… In his mind he could still see his mother with her long hair and her smiling eyes. The image was clawing horribly at his insides, as if the memory was trying to punish him for still being alive. It was her birthday, her _birthday_ , and damnit, Itachi wasn't even here to…

He opened his eyes; Naruto was staring at him looking utterly lost.

"Come to what?"

Sasuke felt himself deflate a little, "The gig!"

"OH!" Realization dawned on Naruto's face. "Oh I see. Wow, that's...great, but I…" He looked awkward.

Sasuke felt like a water filled balloon descending several stories to burst open on a hard cold floor.  _Of course_  Naruto was busy,  _of course he was_. The whole damn planet was busy just to spite him. How embarrassing! Imaginary lights inside his head seemed to flash the warning: Back track! Back track!

"But of course you're unavailable, and uh…. I thought it would just be polite? Seeing as we didn't say goodbye to each other properly."

He neglected to mention  _the other day, after we had sex_. He should be banned from interacting with people other than Gaara, Sakura and Itachi; no good could come of it.

Naruto's smile was a little wry as he said "It was a  _little_  awkward when you threw me out on my arse."

"Yeah, so…." Ah, if he were  _only_  able to teleport. "You can't make it, so I'll er, go."

Sasuke looked around hopelessly for the bus to arrive, wishing Naruto would just walk away and never look back. He'd transfer to an Alaskan university the second he got home, under a new alias with a fake mustache to prevent them from accidentally bumping into each other  _ever again_.

It was absolutely impossible to tell what Naruto was thinking; those eyes were like cornflower marbles sunk into a basin of salt. He was tilting his head slightly to the side as if he were studying Sasuke, exposing a lot of his very alluring neck, a neck that Sasuke vividly remembered kissing.

He should really  _stop_  thinking things that made him feel like his face was on fire.

"No, you don't have to go. It's just that I promised Kiba that I'd be his wingman at a house party he wants to go to."

Now it was Sasuke's turn to be confused, "A what?"

Naruto shrugged, and waved his hands in the air. "It's stupid really, don't worry about it. They probably won't be heading off till about eleven as it's just around the corner from where we live. So, if the gig finishes around then and it's nearby so we could head on over to the house party together?"

At these words Sasuke's stomach twisted as he watched Naruto smile, he had never before felt so unsure and awkward in his own body. It was as if he'd suddenly become three inches high; his fingers twisted the end of the scarf he was wearing anxiously between forefinger and thumb. He hated house parties. To him they signified a lot of drunk people throwing up everywhere usually outside ones bedroom, couples sneaking off to make out in cupboards and having unsanitary sex on someone else's bed sheets.

For Naruto's benefit however, he pretended to look enthusiastic, or at least he hoped he looked enthusiastic but the expression on his face made Naruto smile again instead. Was that a good thing? Was Naruto smiling because he wanted Sasuke to go with him, or was he smiling because Sasuke had pulled the worlds most ridiculous face?

He ran his hands anxiously through his hair again, unsure of what to do or say but was saved a reply as Naruto put his hand gently on his shoulder and asked, "Could we go back to the flat? You don't have to decide about the house party now, but, er I'm not wearing any shoes."

"Oh!" Naruto was indeed shoeless Sasuke realized, the kneejerk reaction causing him to glance down at Naruto's unclad feet, poking out from beneath denim jeans. He had run after him before stopping to…

"It's only a two minute walk from here."

Sasuke tried to move his features back into their customary impassive expression and attempted to squash the myriad of emotions that were swirling through his brain into a quantum black box. One of his hands was still tugging at the end of his scarf, the other clenched rigidly at his side.

Some expression flashed through Naruto's face as he looked at Sasuke's hand, but as suddenly as it had arrived it vanished. Naruto ran his tongue across his teeth, his mouth still drawn in a smile and pointed back to his flat; they started to walk and silence stretched a little between them.

Sasuke Uchiha bit the inside of his cheek, the use of language had abandoned him completely and he had invited Naruto to a gig? Oh well, at least the music would be loud enough to excuse Sasuke's complete lack of interpersonal skills.

The silence was earsplitting.

Naruto spoke first, blurting the words out as if he were also uncomfortable with the lack of conversation. "You look a lot like your brother, you know."

Sasuke scowled.  _Itachi_  was the last person he wanted to talk about right now to  _anybody_  least of all Naruto. Naruto who he'd caught in the kitchen laughing and cracking jokes with Itachi of all things, and to boot he'd been making conversation whilst topless!

"So I've been told before."

There was a certain shutdown tone to the sentence that warned Naruto that this was probably not Sasuke's favourite topic. He changed tactics.

"So, you're studying Law. Is that interesting?"

"Not really, no."

"Ah...that's great."

Naruto looked at Sasuke; there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as if he were secretly finding something very funny. That irked Sasuke, he knew he wasn't giving Naruto very much to work with but usually when he did that people had the common decency to feel awkward about. Not find it amusing.

The laughter in Naruto's blue eyes made him feel stupid and childish, he tried to insist in his mind that it was Naruto's fault for bringing up Itachi but then again that was only to be expected, seeing as how they'd been talking for at least forty minutes because Sasuke had made his way downstairs.

But how dare Naruto talk to Itachi! And how dare Itachi talk to him?

How dare Itachi bring it up the next day as well over  _dinner_ , and then complain that Sasuke that thrown desert at him? Really if people were going to mention things like that they should expect desert to go flying into their face, and furniture … and pointed objects.

In retrospect Sasuke thought he'd been entirely  _reserved_.

They walked in silence for another thirty seconds or so, walking out of sync with each other. Sasuke's hands still entrenched in his pockets.

"Um," Naruto began, taking yet another stab at conversation, a lesser man probably would have given up by now. "So, how'd you know where I live?"

"A friend from Uni told me." Sasuke said noncommittally, he was steadily avoiding eye contact feeling more and more awkward as every second passed. It caused him to stand straighter, his shoulders forming a solid line under his coat, head and jaw tilted slightly upwards as if slightly defiant. He could feel Naruto next to him studying his features and wondered why he didn't make an excuse to leave.

"Can't reveal your sources huh?" Naruto asked sounding genuinely amused, "I suppose as a spy you're not supposed to."

Sasuke blinked. "A  _spy_?"

"You know dark and mysterious, turning up at peoples doors and dragging them off into the night. It's the sort of thing a spy would do, or maybe an assassin."

"Seeing as you're still talking, I don't think I've made a terribly successful assassin so far."

"True, so you must be a spy."

"I think you play too many video games."

Naruto grinned, "You can never play  _enough_  video games."

"Hn, sure."

"What about you? I get the feeling you don't play any, you're the type who'd say they'd interfere with work. An unnecessary distraction am I right?"

"I used to play when I was younger."

"But now you're an adult and don't play them anymore." Naruto nodded to himself as if he'd made an irrefutable point. "Yes, you've grown up and seen the error of your ways and I'm still stuck acting like a child, never wanting to grow up."

"Been successful so far I see."

Naruto put his hands up and over his head in mock surrender, "Ouch, come on give me some credit, I'm a hard worker!"

"Are you?"

"Work hard, play hard! That's my motto."

Sasuke stole a glance at him from beneath his dark feathery lashes; there was a confidence in Naruto's stride even in his bare feet that Sasuke found maddeningly attractive. He was just so confident, as if he didn't care what other people thought about him, all that golden hair falling about his head, not the ordered hairstyle that Sasuke always felt he had to conform to. That smart and out of your league look that that he applied to himself everyday like armour, because without it he felt vulnerable.

Naruto was very natural, everything about him suggested that that was just how he was, everything on the surface and you could either take it or leave it.

It was a confidence that Sasuke lacked, the ability to just  _be_ , he was always hiding something, pulling back so no one could see what was underneath.

Nothing to criticize, nothing that allowed people to get too close. A permanent barrier between himself and the rest of the world, they had no right to see him, they had no right to judge, and they had no right to  _know_.

But Naruto…. it was like Naruto simply didn't care what others thought and Sasuke was unsure of whether it made him feel uneasy or contemptuous.

"So who's the mutual friend?"

Sasuke looked at him puzzled. "Mutual friend?"

"The one who knows where I live?" Naruto said, gesturing vaguely to the block of flats in front of them. "Or maybe it's not a mutual friend, and he's part of an organized spy ring that scopes out peoples houses. If that's so I've really got to change the locks."

"Yeah, nothing quite so fancy. I don't think you know him directly though…Gaara?"

Naruto's expression was nonplussed.

"Red hair, eye liner. He's often in the Maughan library…. Stares a lot when you speak to him."

The last part seemed to trigger some recognition in Naruto; he clicked his fingers and looked suddenly enthusiastic.

"Kankuro's little brother? Yeah I know him! Came round once and picked Kankuro up after he'd passed out from drinking. Literally dragged Kankuro out through the front door after rescuing him from the bathtub, I don't think I've ever seen Kiba laugh that hard. He's a lot stronger than he looks."

Sasuke tried to imagine Gaara hauling his unconscious brother into his sister's car as an act of kindness, but thought it far more likely that the two of them would have deposited Kankuro in the hedge outside the front of their house until he came to. Besides god help the  _idiot_  who threw up in Temari's car.

Naruto was excitedly bouncing from one foot to another as he fished in his pocket for the keys to the flat.

"Yeah, I've always been a bit fascinated by Gaara! Is his hair really that colour, or does he dye it?"

"I'm not sure."

"I heard he writes poetry or plays or something? Didn't he write part of last years play?"

Sasuke gave a noncommittal shrug. "I think so he's very adept at satire, unfortunately."

Naruto laughed, "Yeah, I can imagine that would be a pain in the arse when you're trying to win an argument."

He fumbled with the key in lock grating it around until the door swung open to reveal a steep flight of carpeted stairs, at the top of which Kiba was standing hands on hips staring curiously down at the two of them. His amber eyes flicking from Naruto's face to Sasuke's face, with no attempt to hide his interest at seeing the two of them together. Sasuke felt like pulling the collar of his coat around his face, it made him feel distinctly uncomfortable.

"You went off without your shoes, mate." Kiba said helpfully, gesturing behind him as if to implicate the rest of the flat for willfully withholding the articles of clothing.

"Yeah, I noticed." Naruto replied giving Kiba a look, which obviously communicated something between the two young men as Kiba moved away from the stairs grinning mysteriously.

"Just thinking about your welfare, didn't want to have to give you a tetanus shot."

Naruto shook his head; he turned round to find Sasuke hanging back in the doorway as if unsure of what to do with himself. He gave that smile again that did _bizarre_  things to Sasuke's insides, and motioned for Sasuke to follow him up the stairs.

Almost with reluctance did Sasuke follow him, feeling as if he would happily stayed by the front door. His feet felt heavy as he moved into unknown territory. What was he letting himself in for? The guy with the brown hair had been the one to open the door to him and seen him 'take off'. Too late for rational thought now though, he should have made an excuse for staying outside the flat. Like being allergic to ceilings or something.

Sasuke ascended the stairs with all the dignity and grace he could manage, pretending as if the earlier incident had never happened and a slipped off his shoes. He stole a look at Naruto who had seemed to have registered the fact that Sasuke had taken off his shoes but kept his coat on, he didn't say anything about it though.

At the top of the stairs Sasuke took in the décor of the flat, simple student accommodation with the 'bare essentials' this included a plasma TV hooked up to both a Wii, an Xbox and a PlayStation 3. There were several items of clothing strewn across the floor, an empty pizza box; several drink bottles and an unidentified stain on the carpet poking out from beneath the table.

Shikamaru and Kiba were both sitting on the main sofa in front of the TV, Kiba had his arms crossed looking at Naruto with the same expression as that of a disciplinary parent, whilst Shikamaru kept giving them curious side glances from between intense bursts on the Xbox.

"Back so soon?" Kiba asked playfully, his gaze sliding mischievously from Naruto to Sasuke, it was obvious he want an explanation as to why  _the Sasuke Uchiha_  was standing in their living room. Naruto's only response was to give him a deadpan glare.

"These are my flat mates, flat mates this is Sasuke."

"We have names!" Kiba snapped at him, he jumped up from the sofa and shook Sasuke's hand in such a vigorous manner that it reverberated through the rest of his body.

"Kiba Inuzuka." Said Kiba Inuzuka and Sasuke had the distinct impression he was being introduced to the Pope. "And the thing connected to the Xbox is Shikamaru Nara."

Shikamaru gave mock salute from the sofa, briefly turning his attention away from the television screen as he was apparently in the middle of zombie apocalypse.

"I've seen you around Uni," Kiba informed him bossily, "never spoken to you though. You're an illusive man Sasuke Uchiha."

"That's because he's a spy." Naruto said smiling, "Careful Sasuke, I think Kiba's going to hit you up for his Student Union representative speech."

"Oh, you're running for student union president?" Sasuke asked putting two and two together as Kiba visibly puffed out his chest. "Naruto approached me about it the other day."

He neglected to mention that that had led onto other  _things_ ; other wonderful, marvelous things that had involved the salty taste of his skin against his tongue and Naruto's fingers pulling at his hair. He compressed his lips into a line and didn't trust himself to look at Naruto. They hadn't spoken about what had happened since they'd done it, and the way that Sasuke had ejected Naruto from the house had been in such a manner that they were to never speak of it again to anyone. And yet, here he was. Still infatuated with the man, unable to function properly around him and inviting him out to  _gig_  out of all the ludicrous things to be doing.

"Ah, excellent! Well I'm sure Naruto gave you the whole reel huh? So, it's a yes?"

Then they all looked at Sasuke expectantly.

The alarm bells went off in Sasuke's head, what was a yes? What was he talking about? What  _had_  been the original reason that Naruto had some round? The actual reason that Sasuke had given him his address? He couldn't remember; his mind had drawn a complete and unhelpful blank, and Kiba was looking at him hopefully. Just give an answer he voice inside his head shrieked, any answer would do!

"Uh…yes?" That response in retrospect was probably not the best move he'd ever made.

Kiba clapped his hands triumphantly, "This is marvelous news!" he said excitedly, and Sasuke wondered with a slight panic what the hell he'd just agreed to.

"You don't have to give him an answer now Sasuke." Naruto intervened looking more than a little concerned, "I'm sure he needs more time to mull it over. Don't bully him Kiba into agreeing with you!"

Naruto's eyes were wide as if he were trying to give Sasuke a signal or a way out but Kiba clapped him hard on the back and said jovially "Nonsense, he's quite clearly made up his mind, didn't I tell you that I'd get Sasuke, Shikamaru?"

Kiba put his arm around Sasuke's shoulder looking incredibly pleased with himself, "You and I, we will do great things. In celebration of this new alliance can I get you something to drink, we have cider, Peroni, Carlsberg, Budweiser?"

"I'm good, thanks."

New alliance? What on earth…

"Oh leave him alone Kiba," Naruto put his arm around his friend's neck in a vice grip and pulled him backwards away from Sasuke.

"Give him some space jeeze, he didn't come all this way just for that you know."

Kiba looked a little dispirited at this, even as his face was turning slowly red in Naruto's death grip.

"He didn't?" he managed to choke out.

"No! He came over to invite me to a gig." Naruto kept his arm exactly in the same position apparently enjoying the site of Kiba wriggling around trying to break his hold. Kiba leaned forward, pulling the weight of Naruto's body onto his back and tried to throw his friend onto the floor, but Naruto clung on unrelenting. They struggled for a further minute, until Kiba threw all his weight backwards and sent them both toppling onto the floor.

"Who are you going to see?" a red-faced Kiba asked, pulling himself up from underneath Naruto's torso.

"Kankuro's band." Sasuke said, watching as Naruto messed up Kiba's hair, who protested and pretended to punch him in the face.

"The Maxwell's Derivations?" Kiba said grinning, smoothing out the ridiculous side parting his friend had given him. "They're actually pretty good, although I'd prefer if he put more effort into his rugby training. We were slaughtered by UCL last week."

Extracting themselves from the flat and going to the gig was turning out to be easier said than done.

Sasuke could tell Kiba was trying to mine him for information as he continued to pepper him with questions. There was no doubt Kiba was a natural team leader and networker; he'd seen Kiba around Campus before as one of the popular boys constantly surrounded friends and admirers. Sasuke knew he was heavily into sports and never absent from Sports Night at the student bar so naturally he was invited to every student house party in the capital. Not only that but he was captain of one of the university's more successful rugby teams. It was some CV Kiba Inuzuka was putting together Sasuke thought as the young man eyed him up from across the room with liquid amber eyes. Perhaps he was just working up to world domination.

"I thought Sasuke could come to the house party with us later, I'm sure there will be a few people there that you know." He said turning to Sasuke.

"That'd be cool." Kiba said thoughtfully, making his way over the fridge and helping himself to something in a takeaway box. "It'd be good to be seen together so early on, gently introduce people to the winning combo, Sasuke Uchiha and Kiba Inuzuka. They'll never know what hit them."

"Shut  _up_  Kiba." Naruto told him, but he was laughing.

"What?" Kiba asked; there was something roughly feral about his face that made him oddly attractive. He was masculine in a subtle way, like a hunter or a predator. He was broad and fit, a similar shape to Naruto Sasuke noted, with several metal piercings in his ears and he could see a tattoo of a wolf on his right bicep. He looked at Sasuke's impassive expression and grinned, "I'm only joking!"

"Yeah, right." Shikamaru interjected from the sofa. "Sasuke ignore Kiba, he talks shit ninety percent of the time. He's probably worried that the girl he's madly in love with at this house party will like you more than him."

Kiba looked pointedly at Naruto as Shikamaru said this, "You said you'd help me with that," he reminded his friend. "Don't forget!"

"Keep your underwear on," Naruto replied rolling his eyes. "Not that you'll be removing it anytime soon as I still think it's a lost cause Kiba. She lives with Neji. There's no competition."

"That's a nice way to talk to your friend!" Kiba said indignantly, "What does he have that I don't?"

"A less obnoxious personality?"

Sasuke laughed at that, and it felt like the first time he'd laughed in years. Kiba cast his hands in the air dramatically, muttering the words: 'Et tu, brute?' and flounced theatrically back to the fridge.

Sasuke turned to find Naruto staring oddly at him and reminded him that he still needed his shoes. There was unusual expression on Naruto's face, as if he'd just been awoken from a long sleep or like a deep-sea diver emerging to the surface for air.

"Oh yeah… _right_." Naruto murmured; looking almost embarrassed as he came to. "Shoes!" He began rummaging under different pieces of furniture.

"Sasuke, have something to eat!" Kiba insisted, advancing on Sasuke brandishing a sandwich.

Sasuke Uchiha's protests were nullified as Kiba pushed it into his hands, his liquid amber eyes sparkling with some mischief as Sasuke looked down at the plate.

"Go on."

Seeing as Naruto was still unsuccessfully looking for his shoes and there seemed a lack of other alternatives bar running out of the flat, Sasuke bit into the sandwich. It was like trying to eat a jellyfish; the sandwich's filling was rubbery in texture and extremely hard to swallow. He tried not to let this register on his face however and instead said, "Mmm… Yum."

Kiba cracked up.

"Spit it out!" Shikamaru yelled from the sofa, he was playing as an old man wielding a hunting rifle and was currently engaged in shooting a huge zombie in the face that currently seemed to be trying to eat him.

"Don't trust anything he gives you, he's winding you up."

"You're a good sport," Kiba laughed clapping Sasuke hard on the back, almost causing him to swallow the whatever-it-was that was in his mouth.

With the rest of the sandwich and the whatever-it-had been in Sasuke's mouth in the bin, he was pointed to the toilet as he insisted on using mouthwash to get rid of the funny taste.

In the bathroom he splashed cold water on his face, ran his hands under the tap and then dragged them through his hair, in an attempt to stop it from sticking up at the back. No such luck, it stubbornly remained in its anti-gravity position, he sighed. He was uncomfortably hot he thought, and then realized it was because he was still wearing his coat and scarf, too late to take it off now though.

There was a knock on the bathroom door and Naruto's head appeared around it.

"Hey, sorry about Kiba. He's always doing things like that. I hit him for you though if that helps."

"Is that what the screaming was?"

"Yeah, Shikamaru and I used a couple of thumbscrews on him. He won't be doing that again in a hurry."

"It's ok, my brother and I used to do that to each other all the time when we were kids."

"Kiba means well, we think." Naruto paused for a moment, stepped into the room with Sasuke and shut the door behind him.

"Look, about last week. We didn't  _really_  get round to discussing Kiba's terms and conditions, so it's okay if you tell him you don't want to do it."

Sasuke brushed past the reference to  _last week_  acting as though nothing had happened. Instead he asked, "What exactly have I signed on to?"

Naruto looked at the floor, there was an amused smile on his face that highlighted the dimples in his cheeks "I don't know whether you've noticed Sasuke but you get a  _lot_ of attention."

"Do I?"

Naruto stared at him as if trying to determine whether or not he thought Sasuke was being sarcastic or not, he decided to go with the latter.

"Yes, you do. When you do things Sasuke people… _notice_. Kiba's idea is that you show that you support him, and people will vote for him."

Sasuke ran his hands through his hair again for the 90th time that evening and tried to flatten it down unsuccessfully at the back again.

"I'm hardly popular, Kiba's popular but I'm not. I don't mind him telling people that I'll vote for him, but I hardly see how that's going to change anything."

"Well, you'll see." Naruto said shrugging his shoulders, "I'm pretty sure half of the reason Kiba's doing it anyway is because he has a personal grudge again Neji."

"Hyuuga?"

"That's the one."

"He's in my tutorials."

"And there's that," Naruto said with a laugh, "pretty sure Kiba's going to ask you to do baseline reconnaissance work for him."

"I think we've already discussed the fact that I'm an operative, but I doubt Kiba could afford my fees."

"I'm sure Kiba would become your personal slave if you asked him to."

Sasuke inclined his head a little as if considering the proposition, he tried to turn off the tap but the cold water kept pouring vigorously into the basin. He twisted to no avail, the water rapidly rising and threatening to spill over the edge.

"It does that sometimes," Naruto muttered, moving over to where Sasuke was standing and giving the tap such a wrench it threatened to spin off the to other side of the room. He straightened up and looked at Sasuke who hadn't moved from the basin either, his hands still wet, his coat and scarf still on.

This was the closest they'd been to each other since they'd kissed, touched each other and fucked. The tension between them was electric; Sasuke felt his pulse begin to rise as he looked back into Naruto's bright blue eyes. Even in the poorly light bathroom he made Sasuke's heart leap about in his chest, that messy blonde hair, the strong jaw, that ultimately kissable mouth… He wanted to lean forward and touch Naruto, he was close enough and he was sure Naruto wouldn't stop him.

He was staring at Sasuke as intensely as Sasuke was staring at him, as if he too were trying to slot the pieces of the puzzle together. What was this? He never felt like this about people, usually it was one quick fuck and then it was all over. But this? He didn't know how to get Naruto out of his system, or even what his feeling for Naruto were. It was silly surely to keep seeing him, but when he hadn't seen him, all he'd done was think of him.

He wanted Naruto to kiss him…He wanted to kiss Naruto, to push him up against the bathroom wall and feel Naruto's fingers running across his skin again.

"You know," Naruto's voice sounded lower and huskier, Sasuke felt his skin prickle with anticipation. "I kind of liked your hair before you tried to flatten it."

Sasuke didn't reply; he didn't even trust himself to breathe. He inclined his head and saw Naruto move a fraction of an inch towards him and then…

His phone went off.

The moment splintered and Naruto pulled back and moved towards to door.

"I've got the shoes." He said blinking as if he were coming out of some sort of reverie, "I'll be waiting in the hallway."

Sasuke frowned, not sure if the phone had saved him from a terrible mistake or not. It was a text message from Itachi. Sasuke toyed with the idea of ignoring his brother but then thought the better of it, sliding his phone open to read the rest of it. The content of the text was simple the worlds: 'Madara wants to talk' flashed up at him in the dim light. Sasuke felt his stomach twist horribly.

He'd done nothing wrong, had he? Was it something he'd done personally? Or was it something that he and Itachi had done? Madara wasn't known for his 'friendly chats' but… Now, now was not the time to panic. Whatever had happened to make Madara upset it would have to be dealt with tomorrow  _with Itachi_. There was no point in panicking now. He bit his lip and closed his eyes, just try and forget about it he thought. Make sure you're back for tomorrow morning and everything would be fine. But the thought didn't stop the cold feeling of dread from slowly creeping its way across his body.

Fuck it, there was only one-way he knew how to resolve this, and that required a  _lot_ of alcohol.

* * *

"I'm all for advising you against listening to Kankuro's band sober," Gaara yelled above the music to Sasuke who was standing a few paces away from him at the bar. "But I think you're taking this a bit too literally."

Sasuke finished his bottle of Peroni tilting his head slightly towards Gaara, his dark eyes set and a little dangerous. He turned to Naruto, his jaw very firm and absolutely stubborn. "Want to do a round of shots?" He asked.

The blonde was a curious customer he had decided, Naruto was friendly and absolutely charming. Even Gaara had made an amused expression at him as he'd introduced himself, explaining that he had been summoned here by Sasuke's recommendation.

"If you can handle it Uchiha," he said easily. They were in a small trendy bar with only two levels, they were on the second level were there was a platform at the back of the room for a band to play in. The walls were decorated with clocks, old glass decanters and antique looking keys, whilst the bar a rectangular shaped area boxed in by the high counter-top was on the far right of the room pressed into the wall.

It was busy tonight mainly due to the fact that it was a student night and the drinks and entry were 'cheap' for London prices, they were packed up against the bar being pressed on by all sides by other customers revving to get the attention of one of the bar tenders. Sasuke could see Gaara eyeing the girl he had asked to make him a cocktail suspiciously, he had every right to be suspicious however, he had most definitely asked for a daiquiri and she was most _certainly_  making him a margarita, or at least that's what he told Sasuke saying: "I've never seen a daiquiri involve salt before!"

Sasuke shrugged, his friend would know more about cocktails than he would. Gaara considered the act of making them as a sort of art form and was highly critical of any establishment that didn't make them correctly. It fitted accordingly into Gaara's repertoire to be seen in fashionable places with an elaborate drink in hand, ready to make smart comments to unsuspecting passers by.

On the other hand the same couldn't be said for Kankuro, who was at this minute making a hell of a lot of noise. Sasuke was not quite sure if it could be classified as music, but it was close enough.

He leant across to Naruto, "Do you like them?"

Naruto pulled the pained expression of 'I can't quite hear you' and tilted his ear towards Sasuke's mouth, making the motion to reiterate what he'd just said.

"I said," Sasuke repeated bringing one hand up to cup his mouth. "Do you like them?"

He watched Naruto grin, "I find his lyrics funny!" he responded cupping his own hands around his mouth in order to amplify his voice. "I don't know anybody else who'd write a song about his PhD!"

"It's pretty absurd." Gaara agreed sipping casually on his cocktail. "No one understands what he's saying. I'm not sure how he expects a layman to understand terms about Quantum Field Theory and path integrals."

"I thought that was the point?" Naruto asked. "It's just supposed to be outlandish? When he talks about it when we're playing Rugby we all just take the piss."

Gaara pulled a long suffering face, "You've not heard his song about 'Dicks Diagrams' then, not to add that Temari once had to persuade him out of getting the Dirac equation tattooed on his arm."

"How did she do that?"

"Oh," Gaara waved his free hand around in the air. "She said she'd punch his teeth out if he so much as dared. He was stone drunk at the time, next morning he thanked her for stopping him, said that it would have been a terrible mistake to have got Dirac and not Maxwell's equations instead."

He rolled his lime slate green eyes, "You can't help whom you're related to, I guess."

Naruto burst out laughing, "I had no idea he was so into physics!"

Gaara gave him an apologetic nod, "He did three degrees at Imperial, his bachelors, his masters and his PhD, he couldn't get enough of it. We thought he was going into academia and research but then he changed his mind when he submitted his thesis."

Sasuke rolled the empty bottle of Peroni between his hands, feeling the cool condensation that had formed on the bottle lower his skin temperature.

"He switched to medicine didn't he?"

"Yep. Totally out of the blue, just came back one day and announced it. That's how you know him isn't it?" Gaara asked Naruto, he was balancing his cocktail in the one hand with amazing grace Sasuke thought. That was the thing about Gaara, you could never tell when he was drunk or not, he always stayed exactly the same. Methodical and unblinking like a live statue.

"He's on year two of the graduate program so he's been put with all us lot the third years, but I know him mostly from Rugby."

"Ah yes, that  _sport_." Sasuke stopped himself for giving a derisive snort from the way Gaara had pronounced the word 'sport'; he caught the eye of the bar tender and asked for tequila shots.

Naruto flashed that smile again and his expression fox like. "I take it you don't approve of rugby then?"

"Gaara disapproves of many things." Sasuke informed Naruto whilst watching his friend raising a quizzical eyebrow, or would-be-eyebrow but due to his lack of them he simply raised his forehead.

"All I'll say is that the amount of head bashing doesn't seem to have affected his academic performance as of yet. Although I'm told the socials are something to see."

"Yeah," Naruto admitted looking slightly abashed, he rubbed the tip of his nose. "Rugby socials are a thing no civilized person should ever see."

"All that ramped up testosterone no doubt," Sasuke could see Gaara giving him a suggestive look here and chose to ignore it. "Manly men in a room making each other drink their own piss and vomit."

" _ **What?**_ " Sasuke almost dropped the shot glasses.

"Oh hey, look here!" Naruto raised his hands so they were palms facing forwards, the picture of a peaceful surrender. "I have never drunk someone else's piss."

"Implying you've drunk someone else's vomit?" Gaara laughed, "Oh my god Sasuke you've introduced me to a barbarian."

Sasuke pressed the shot glass into his friend's hand and then into Naruto's. Naruto was looking slightly embarrassed but was laughing at the same time,

"I don't know what happens at Rugby initiations that turns all players into animals, but it's not very nice."

"Vast amounts of beer and vodka?" Sasuke suggested, "Speaking of which, Skål."

"Skål?" Naruto asked perplexed, the shot glass wavering in front of his mouth.

"It means cheers in Norwegian."

They downed it in one, licking the salt from the glass and biting into the lime afterwards to stop the back-burn from the tequila. Sasuke winced from the taste, it wasn't his favourite shot but it beat getting Sambuca because Gaara would always insist on lighting. He didn't care on whether Gaara insisted a thousand times or not that it was perfectly safe, he was not going to set something on fire and then  _swallow it_.

They spent another half or so talking, Sasuke getting steadily tipsier and tipsier, the room wasn't spinning but he felt 'buzzy' as if he were filled from the inside with a warm glow. Speaking without confusing his words was getting a little difficult too, but Naruto also seemed to be reaching the same state of a slightly 'fuzzled'. He was laughing and smiling at a greater rate, standing closer to Sasuke and reaching out every now and again to put his hand on Sasuke's shoulder.

He was sure this was great entertainment for Gaara, who was holding yet another cocktail with supreme elegancy, having not changed in sobriety since the beginning of the evening.

Damn his friend for being so cool and collected, even when challenged by forty percent alcohol.

"I need to pee," Naruto said mid conversation excusing himself.

"Don't succumb to temptation and drink any!" Gaara shouted after him so several people heard. Naruto turned round laughing and gave Gaara the finger.

They had been discussing why Kankuro would sing a song about a cat that was both dead and alive (according to the lyrics). Gaara said it was a metaphor about a previous relationship, Sasuke wasn't so sure.

Gaara gave a rich chuckle as Naruto left and turned round to Sasuke.

"I like him." He said factually, "He's nice, although why you'd take him to listen to my brother's monstrosity of a band on a first date is beyond me."

"It's  _not_  a date!" Sasuke interjected a little more hotly than he'd intended.

"Sure it's not, that's why you've been making eyes at him all night."

"I have -…"

Gaara patted him in a mollifying way on the shoulder, "Of course not. You don't fancy him  _at all_."

"I don't fancy people!" Sasuke informed him in what he hoped was a cold and aloof voice.

"And the Pope never watches porn."

"Gaara!" Sasuke reproached, slapping him on the back.

His friend gave a small nod of the head and just smiled, taking a sip of his drink and rearranging his little cocktail umbrella.

"I think Kankuro is about to finish up, aren't you supposed to be going to a house party or something. That'll be something to see, you hate those."

"No I don't."

"Yes, you do! You must  _really_  like him to have agreed to go."

"I've not agreed to do anything."

"Uhuh…"

"Oh shut up."

Gaara gave his dark throaty chuckle again, "Well you've brought him here so I can access him, and I've just given him an all clear. Who else are you going to test him on, Sakura?"

"I'm not testing him on anyone, I just thought it'd be polite to bring him along."

"And since when have you cared about being polite?  **Never**. You like him, it's obvious. In fact you more than like him, you  _like him like him like him_."

Perhaps Gaara was a  _little_  drunk.

"What are we in, primary school?"

"Why, do you want to pull his pigtails?"

Sasuke entertained the idea of smashing the nearest bottle over Gaara's head but resisted the temptation. His friend was good naturedly trying to wind him up and to hell with it if he was going to let him succeed.

"Itachi liked him though." he wasn't sure why it was important to venture that information forward to Gaara, but it just was.

His friend nodded, thoughtfully prodding the umbrella round the cocktail glass. "Don't get too hammered at this house party, I don't want to be called out to carry you home."

Sasuke bit the inside of his mouth, his mind flicking back to the text message in his pocket, should he tell Gaara? Shouldn't he tell Gaara? Would Gaara over-react if he did tell him? Gaara had been the only person he'd ever told about the piano incident, it was both a reason to tell Gaara that he was supposed to be meeting Madara tomorrow and a very good reason  _not_  to tell Gaara he was meeting Madara tomorrow. If he was being sensible he should really start sobering up now.

"Hey," there were warm fingers on his back and Naruto's blonde hair and denim jacket had reappeared again.

"I've got a text from Kiba saying they've left to go to the party and could I please come and back him up. So, I've gotta go make him look good." He gave Gaara one of his incredibly warm smiles and stuck out his hand for a shake.

"It was great meeting you, you should come over with your brother and Sasuke to chill out and have some drinks."

"It sounds like a tempting offer," Gaara replied, shaking Naruto's hand. "It was nice to meet you too."

Naruto turned his full attention back to Sasuke; they were standing very close together, partially because the bar was so full and partially because alcohol had dissolved the social protocol of personal space. Sasuke was actually enjoying the fact that Naruto's torso was pressed up against his arm, and that the fingers of one hand where still on his back.

"My offer still stands if you want to come with." Naruto told him, his bright blue eyes were looking directly into Sasuke's dark grey irises.

I should really say no. Sasuke thought. I should really say no. I should go home and…He thought about going home and dwelling on the fact that he'd have to see Madara tomorrow morning. And yet Naruto was looking at him as if he  _did_  really want him to come with, and going to the house party meant delaying going home alone…

"Yeah, okay."

He was determined  _not_  to look at Gaara's 'Ha-ha I told you so, face.'

* * *

**NB:**

Some people might not get references to things I've put in the text so here's a list.

**UCL** : University College London, the oldest and largest constituent college of the federal University of London. Founded in 1826, UCL was the first university institution to be founded in London and the first in England to be established on an entirely secular basis, to admit students regardless of their religion and to admit women on equal terms with men. It's famously situated on Gower Street and is closely affiliated with University College Hospital (UCH) on Euston Road and the Royal Free Hospital, situated in Hampstead. Both are world renowned teaching hospitals, it also has a close affiliation with the Hospital of Tropical Medicine, this research institute is famous for their work with AIDs, discovering Ebola, and Malaria. Incidentally it was the Royal Free Hospital's research department that published the paper on the Autism and MMR association which lead to a vaccine scare and is currently why we are experiencing a resurgence of measles in Europe.

Although the philosopher Jeremy Bentham is commonly seen as the father of UCL, he personally took no part in its creation. It famously shares a competitive rivalry with Kings College London (KCL), sometimes referred to as 'Rags'. One of the famous pranks pulled by UCL students was to steal the Kings mascot 'Reggie the Lion' which ended with Reggie being dumped in a field, I also believe on another occasion he was found trapped in solid concrete. Kings students have been rumoured to have stolen the skull of Jeremy Bentham and to have played football with it.

Both UCL and KCL are part of the Russell Group (akin to the Ivy League in America) and are both part of the 'golden triangle' which includes Oxford, Cambridge, Imperial, and LSE (London School of Economics and Political Science).

Universities from my own experience in London are mostly called by their acronyms LSE, KCL and UCL. Imperial is an exception because no one wants to call it ICL, although they are no longer part of the University of London group after recently pulling away in 2007, this has larger ramifications for staff and research departments, it mostly means that Imperial students are no longer allowed to use other university of London faculties such as Libraries or gyms, and have to pay a larger fee if going to an event at ULU (University of London Union).

**Imperial College London:**  Originally established around a hundred years ago as a polytech it has since merged with other colleges and expanded into becoming one of the largest London universities. Imperial specialises in sciences and business, having a large business school as a separate department. Imperial's maths course famously requires the highest grades of any undergraduate course in the UK.

Imperial notably has campuses in Chelsea, Paddington and Hammersmith, the most famous campus being in South Kensington and its main entrance is on Exhibition Road next to the Science Museum, and they boast a students union that is next to the Royal Albert Hall. Medics however studying at Imperial have a separate students union, bar and campus and exclusively remain at Hammersmith Hospital and are known to mostly socialise with the other science students in first year, due to sharing halls.

**CV:**  Curriculum vitae, a summary of academic and professional history and achievements, this is basically the English version of a resume.

**Boris Bike:**  Barclays Cycle Hire (BCH) is a public bicycle-sharing scheme that was launched on 30 July 2010 in London, England. The scheme's bicycles are popularly known as Boris bikes, after Boris Johnson, the Mayor of London who introduced them, however I believe it was originally Ken Livingston's idea, so yet again Boris takes credit whilst doing nothing.

Other London universities include: Westminster University, Kingston University, School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS), Birkbeck, Royal Holloway, Queen Mary and St George's University of London (SGUL). (I'm sure I've missed some here)

Enjoy x


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